Tangled Fates (Halted for Now)
by NAPPA
Summary: (discontinued for now) Brought to Hogwarts four years too late, Harry Potter finds himself in a brand new world, one still reeling from a horrific war. Can Harry find his place and come into his own after being away for so long? How different a world?
1. Chapter One: A Magical Mystery Tour

Tangled Fates 

A Harry Potter Fan Fiction   
By NAPPA and PixyChick AKA Lauren

Chapter One: A Magical Mystery Tour

A shrill, unearthly cry echoed through the dark stone corridors that made up Lord Voldemort's fortress. "Tell me, centaur, or certainly you _will_ be feeling much worse than that, I swear it! I _know_ you've got some sort of prophecy and I want it!"

A once-robust centaur lay writhing on the filth-covered floor. "Never!" he choked out. "Never will I ally myself with the likes of you!" His words remained valiant, but his body and will were weakening slowly under the incessant rounds of torture at the hands of the Dark Lord.

A whispered word and another jet of light flew at the centaur's prone form. Back arched and screaming, as the painful effects of the Cruciatus curse broke another once -strong will. "Fine! FINE! I shall tell you what you wish to know! Please! Please! No more!" The chestnut mare sobbed, finally giving in to the darkness that pervaded every pore of his body. He began to speak.

Two months later, with a horrible cut shaped curiously like a bolt of lightning on his forehead, Harry Potter slept upon the front porch of number four, Privet Drive.

~*~

Vernon Dursley bustled about his sunny kitchen, lovingly preparing a breakfast for his wife, Petunia. Normally, Vernon himself would be the one being pampered, but tragically, two weeks earlier, Petunia had suffered a horrid miscarriage, one that had left Petunia unable to bear any more children. So Vernon hurried about, flipping pancakes and brewing fresh coffee to serve his bed-ridden wife's every whim. Loading up a tray with a surprisingly delectable-looking breakfast, Vernon trotted down the hall, expecting to pick up the post from the front hallway. To his surprise, there was no post pile in front of the door. Balancing the tray in one hand, he pried open the door...and promptly screamed.

The meticulously prepared breakfast crashed to the floor as Vernon stared at the bundle on his doorstep. There, swaddled in blankets and sleeping soundly, lay a baby, dark-haired and cherubic, with, mysteriously enough, a large, lightning bolt-shaped slash across his forehead. The initial shock gone, he crouched over the baby, marveling at his tiny form, and perhaps, at the chance to raise a child when only two weeks previously his dreams were shattered. A letter written on heavy parchment fluttered to the ground as the child rolled over. Sitting down on the porch next to the bundle, Vernon severed the wax sealing the letter shut and began to read.

_**Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,**  
_

_My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am writing to you as a friend of Lily and James Potter, and now, as an executor of their estate. I am terribly sorry to tell you that earlier this evening, a dark wizard by the name of Lord Voldemort broke into Lily and James's home and, though they fought bravely, succeeded in his dastardly mission of killing them. I offer my condolences to you. They were beautiful and brave people, very much in love with each other and with life. They did, however, leave an amazing legacy behind, one that will live on forever in their son, Harry.  
__Harry Potter is no ordinary boy. He has powers and potential that we cannot even comprehend. This is the reason that I believe Lord Voldemort wished to kill him. Harry did not die, though, even when he was hit by the killing curse, which, to my knowledge, has never before failed, and what's more, Voldemort's spell backfired upon him, breaking his power and freeing our world from his grasp. For this, we are all in debt to this little boy. He is a hero and will be revered as such from this day forward.  
__For this reason, I have decided it is in Harry's best interests that he should stay in your custody, away from the crowds and fame, until he is ready to handle it and come into his own. You are his only living family, and I trust he will be safe in your care. I will contact you again when it is time for Harry to come to Hogwarts to begin his education. Until then, my condolences are yours._

_Sincerely,  
__**Albus Dumbledore**  
__Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
__Order of Merlin, First Class_

Vernon felt a tear slowly trace a path across his cheek as he gazed upon his nephew, already a hero, already accomplished so much, and already orphaned.

"Vernon!" Petunia's shrill voice cried, "What's going on?"

Vernon picked up his nephew, still clutching the letter and walked inside. "Hold on, Petty, I'll be up in a minute. I've got something big to tell you."

The door closed behind him.

~*~

Fourteen years and a trans-world move later, the Dursley family had settled down upon the island of Sofeba off the coast of New Zealand. When Harry was three, Vernon had given up his position as supervisor of production at Grunnings drill factory and moved the three of them to an upstart sugarcane plantation, one which, under Vernon's careful watch, had grown into the largest producer of refined sugar in the southwest Pacific. Petunia, though rather unhappy to leave the British shores, was now quite the hostess, and delighted in redecorating their large, airy home as often as she wanted, especially when there was need for a party.

Harry, now fifteen, stood a sturdy six feet tall; his frame topped by an unruly mop of thick, jet-black hair and sparkling emerald green eyes, which were hidden behind either glasses or contacts, whatever mood suited him. Vernon had become a wonderful father to him, making up in full for his lack of real parents and Petunia's inexplicable coldness towards the boy. Vernon did not care that his wife did not like Harry, for he loved him like the son he would never have and did his very best to instill the values in Harry that his father before him had left on Vernon.

Petunia never took to Harry, and it was always supposed that her general dislike for her nephew stemmed from resentment about her child who had died where Harry had lived. Secretly, Harry always thought that perhaps there was also a deeper meaning for her lack of love towards him, something between his mother and her that was never resolved. However, from Petunia's neglect grew a new and very important relationship in Harry's life— that with his nanny, whom Vernon had hired to watch over Harry while he was at work, not really trusting his wife to take good care of him.

Mrs. Chambers was a kind and good-hearted woman with a boy Harry's age. She accepted Harry into her family like he was one of her own and Harry was always grateful for it. Her son, Danny, grew to be Harry's very best friend, a bond that began in the most unusual of ways: one afternoon when Harry and Danny were playing by the bay near the Dursley's plantation, Danny slipped and fell in, immediately getting swept up in the riptide. To his surprise as much as Danny's, Harry found himself diving in the waters, willing himself to swim faster in order to reach his friend before the inevitable happened, and when Harry found himself actually turningintoa _whale_...well, suffice it to say that it was one of the single-most frightening moments of his whole life. Luckily, he kept his wits about him and brought his friend to safety.

Danny advised Harry to keep his transformation a secret. After all, he rationalized; you never know what kind of government spook could be looking for a kid who could turn into a whale. From that day on, Harry and Danny were practically inseparable – and as they grew older, it seemed that Harry appeared as more of an extension of Danny and vice versa.

They had a friendly rivalry on almost everything—from schoolwork to athletics, and even girls! 

Harry had already made quite the name for himself, being both top of his class and a well-respected athlete. This, coupled with his striking good looks, made him quite the small-town celebrity—the boy all the girls wanted to date and all the guys wanted to be—and so Harry was used to strangers coming up to him and saying hello. The weirdest thing was that some of these people were garbed in what seemed like long dresses, and they all seemed to disappear when Harry gave them a second look. 

Even with the spattering of odd occurrences, (once, Harry had been in his bedroom, seriously craving a milkshake, when suddenly, one appeared before his eyes!) Harry had always found life quite enjoyable. He dismissed the supernatural happenings that always seemed to occur around him, simply saying, "sometimes, things need a to be a little extraordinary." However, Harry Potter had no idea just how extraordinary things were about to become...

~*~

Harry Potter sat up, rubbing his green eyes blearily as a cool breeze trickled through his open window, ruffling his hair and scattering the papers stacked on his desk. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching lazily for his glasses and placing them on his head. The world snapped into focus. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle—he had the distinct feeling of being watched.

Steeling his courage, he swung around, eyes darting madly for any disturbance. He let his arms drop to his sides, feeling stupid, although a little wary, because there, on the windowsill, sat an owl.

Harry walked over to the owl. He had never really seen one before, for owls were not very commonplace on the island. Much to his surprise, it appeared that the owl was carrying a letter. "Hey, what's that you've got there?" Harry whispered soothingly. The owl shot him an appraising glance and took to the air again, fluttering over to where Harry stood. Dropping the letter at Harry's feet, the owl swooped out the window, flying away into the early-morning sunshine.

Harry picked up the letter. It felt heavy, like it was written on some sort of parchment. Turning it over, he read the address aloud. "Harry Potter. Second bedroom, Dursley Plantation, Sofeba, New Zealand."

Now very curious, Harry sank back down on his bed, peeling off the wax seal that held the letter closed and removed the letter. Eyes wide, he read its contents—feeling amazed, yet somehow knowing in the back of his mind that _this _was what he was waiting for all his life. That _this _was the reason he always felt special and didn't know why.

_**Dear Mr. Potter**_**,**

_I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Normally, students are sent this letter upon their eleventh birthday, however, there are some extenuating circumstances surrounding your admission. First, you must learn about your past. I know this will be hard to hear about from a letter, but you must. This is the reason why your admission has been delayed four years, and the reason why your parents were killed.  
__You, Harry, are an extremely powerful wizard, the likes of which we've never seen. This must come as a shock to you, but, yes, wizards do exist. Magic is quite real, you know. We have a whole world to ourselves, carefully hidden from any Muggle's prying eyes. (A Muggle is what we call a non-magic person.) Anyway, fourteen years ago, on Halloween night, a very dark wizard named Voldemort arrived at your parent's home. Although they did their best to fight him off, he murdered them. After all, no one had ever lived after Lord Voldemort had decided to kill them, no one, that is, except you.  
__Yes, Harry, you lived. To this day, no one knows why, but somehow, when He shot the killing curse at you, it somehow rebounded back and hit Him, leaving him virtually powerless. You freed our world from twelve years of horrible fear and oppression and for this, we are eternally grateful. You are The Boy Who Lived, Harry. When you come to Hogwarts, please do not be alarmed by anyone's reaction to you. You are quite famous and your life is shrouded in legend, you know, because no one's seen you in so long. Just be prepared. However, the reason you are only being contacted now is that the year before you were to be admitted, Voldemort planted a spy here, one who we trusted implicitly and turned on us in the most horrible way, using his position as a professor here to steal the Sorcerer's Stone, which we were hiding here. He gave it to Voldemort and using the Stone's immortality powers, returned him to power.  
__For the next four years, a fierce battle raged, pitting Light magic versus the Dark. Only until a spy of our own managed to steal and return the stone to us, was their any hope for our side. Without the stone, He could make no more Elixir of Life and was therefore vulnerable. The war was not fully over until Albus Dumbledore, our very own headmaster, managed to defeat Lord Voldemort, however in the process, sacrificing his own life for all of us.  
__Dumbledore believed it unsafe for you to return to the wizarding world at that time. However, it was his last wish that you be brought to Hogwarts and trained as best as we could. He seemed to know a lot about you, Harry Potter. I know there is another letter waiting for you when you arrive from him.  
__We hope you accept our invitation to study here. In a day's time, one of our very own professors, Remus Lupin, will be traveling to fetch you and bring you back to England. I speak for all of us here when I say I anticipate your return._

_Sincerely,  
__**Minerva McGonagall**  
__Headmistress, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry  
__Order of Merlin, First Class_

Harry sat in shock. Magic? Wizards? And he himself was some sort of hero. Harry was vaguely aware of his uncle's footsteps in the hallway and a knocking on his door. Suddenly, Uncle Vernon's concerned face was right in front of his own.

"Harry? You all right?"

Harry wordlessly handed over the letter to his uncle, whose face paled considerably as he skimmed its contents.

"Oh, um. I didn't think it would come this soon, ever since we got that letter from this Dumbledore chap when you were ten, I've been dreading this day."

"Why didn't you tell me, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked softly.

Vernon averted his eyes from Harry's piercing gaze. "I don't know, Harry. I guess-- I guess I never actually believed they'd think it was time for you to go and I didn't want to get your hopes up or scare you or anything. I realize now that I should have told you years ago, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. You think we haven't noticed all those strange things that seem to happen around you, Harry? I knew you were magic just like your mum when you were just two years old! I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Harry, I regret it now, but still, you know now anyway."

Harry sighed. "Is this magic hard, do you think?

Vernon smiled. "Not if the past years are a good example of it. You've been making things move since you were old enough to walk. I'd expect that you'd be quite good at this magic stuff once you learn about it a bit. It's quite amazing, you know, I saw your mum doing some of it a couple times. Astounding, really."

"But won't I be behind? I mean, the letter said the other kids were already there since they were eleven!"

Vernon frowned. "I don't think so, Harry. The other letter we got from Hogwarts said that there was something special about you, they didn't really elaborate much, though. But you've never really had a problem with schoolwork before, have you. Mr. I-Take-University-Level-Courses-Even-Though-I'm-Only-Fifteen?" 

Harry laughed, "Well, what can I say? When you've got it, you've got it." He dodged a playful swat from Vernon, jumping off the bed. "I guess I shouldn't really worry about this much. It'll be weird being _famous, _don't you think? This Lupin guy is supposed to be coming tomorrow, so we'll find out more then. Anyway. I'm supposed to meet Danny at his house at 10, so I better get ready."

"Lupin? I don't know why, but that name sounds awfully familiar to me..." Vernon mused as he left the room.

Harry shook his head, laughing, as he headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

~*~

Harry pedaled up the drive of the Chambers's house. Ditching his bike on the lawn in the same spot it always landed, he jogged up the front porch, taking the steps two at a time. Knocking on the door, he went inside, calling, "Hello? Anyone home?"

Mrs. Chambers bustled out of the kitchen, grinning widely at the sight of Harry. She crossed over to him, wrapping him in a huge hug. "Hello, Harry, dear!" she cried, "Danny'll be down in just a minute." Harry smiled, following her into the brightly lit kitchen. Everything from the stark-white walls to the well-scrubbed butcher-block table impeccably clean and smelling of home, reminded Harry just how much he loved this family.

"Good. "Harry said, sitting down at the table and accepting the cookie Mrs. Chambers offered him. "Because I've got something important to tell you both."

Mrs. Chambers sat down across from him, looking a little wary. "Something big, Harry?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." Harry answered ruefully.

Just then, Danny bounded down the back staircase and entered the kitchen. "Hey!" he cried happily, "you ready to go? I told John and Sam that we'd meet them at the field by 11."

"Um, yeah. I have to tell you something, though, so sit down, okay?"

Danny sat down, looking rather apprehensively at Harry.

"Okay, well, the thing is, is that I am going to have to go away for a while—to England, er, to go to school, and I think I have to leave tomorrow, I don't really know, I don't really know _anything, _come to think of it, how they expect me to catch up is beyond me and I have so much to live up to and--"

Mrs. Chambers cut in, laughing, "Harry, dear, you're babbling. Slow down! Did you say you have to leave?"

Harry looked down. "Here. Read this." He pushed the Hogwarts letter across the table so that both Mrs. Chambers and Danny could read it together. He stared out the window while they read, trying to ignore the sounds of surprise they both were letting out.

Finally, Danny spoke. "Is this—is this some kind of joke, Harry?" 

"No, honestly, it's not. I'm supposed to meet this Lupin tomorrow and go away, I guess and they all think I'm some sort of hero, isn't _that_ weird? It's just, you can't tell anyone, okay? I don't even know if I was supposed to tell you, but you're my favorite people in the whole world and I couldn't lie about why I was going away."

"Well, Harry, it seems you've got an interesting year ahead of you. Just don't forget us all back here, okay? We'll be waiting for you to come home." Mrs. Chambers stood up and crossed to Harry, enveloping him in a hug.

"You're okay with all this, then?" Harry asked apprehensively.

Mrs. Chambers smiled. "Of course. I've always know there was something special about you, Harry Potter, something that made you different. I guess this is it. I will miss you though. You've been like a son to me all these years."

Harry looked down, willing himself not to cry. "What about you, Danny?"

"Yeah, I guess so. It's really cool, Harry. But how are we going to win any basketball games with you gone?" Danny laughed.

"I guess you'll finally have to learn how to play, Chambers." Harry joked.

Danny shot him a look. "What am I going to tell everyone when you leave?"

Harry thought for a moment. "I guess just tell them I've went to boarding school in England. Say you don't know the name—it's really exclusive or something. No one should question that. I guess Uncle Vernon will make the arrangements with the school so don't worry about that, either."

"Yeah, well, you know I'll miss you, Potter. Everyone will, especially Serena Feliciano!"

Harry groaned loudly. "There's one reason to be glad I'm leaving." Serena Feliciano was a skinny twelve year-old girl who was madly in love with Harry. Her father owned the town's main store, so every time Harry and Danny ventured into the heart of the village, she accosted them. Needless to say, Harry didn't think he'd especially miss Serena's attentions.

At this, Mrs. Chambers laughed. "That's enough about poor Serena! Anyway, aren't the two of you supposed to be at the school now?"

Harry said his goodbyes, gathered up his letter, and followed Danny out of the house. As they pedaled towards the school and its basketball court, Harry mulled over everything that was happening to him. Just barely fifteen years old and having to move so far away from home, although, if you thought about it, he was actually born somewhere in Britain, so maybe, he was really just returning home.

~*~

After a very sleepless night, Harry awoke at the crack of dawn, intending to go for a run to clear his head. Slipping on a pair of mesh shorts, a sleeveless t-shirt, and sneakers, Harry crept down the stairs, heading for the path that circled the entire plantation—easily a good fifteen mile run.

Running made Harry relax. Somehow, while pushing his body to continue moving when it didn't want to, he seemed to forget everything else and just lose himself in the beauty of the morning. After a good hour or two, Harry jogged back up his own driveway, sweating profusely and quite fatigued. Walking the rest of the way to the house, Harry noticed a thin, sandy-haired man standing at the hedge, staring at the house.

"Um, can I help you with something?" Harry asked suddenly, startling the man.

He turned around quickly. "Oh, yes well—" He trailed off, gazing at Harry. "James?" he whispered.

Harry looked confused. "Right. Well, I don't know any 'Jameses' so if you don't mind; I really have to go take a shower now."

The man flushed. "I'm sorry, you just look so much like—Anyway, you must be Harry. Remus Lupin, at your service."

Harry jumped. "Oh! You're Professor Lupin? Right. I'm Harry Potter, but I guess you already knew that. Um...come inside, please!"

Lupin smiled, following Harry up the staircase and into the house. "Um. My uncle should be around here somewhere; he's usually up by now. Who knows where Aunt Petunia is, though." He led Lupin into the kitchen where Vernon was sipping a cup of coffee while he read the paper.

"Good morning, Uncle Vernon." Harry said as they entered. Vernon looked up, smiling, his gaze turning inquisitive as he spotted Lupin. "This is Remus Lupin."

Vernon stood up, coming over to shake Lupin's hand. "Nice to meet you, Professor Lupin."

"Don't you remember me, Vernon? We met at Lily and James's wedding. I was one of the ushers?"

Vernon's eyes widened. "Oh! Yes! Of course! I knew I recognized your name! How are you, Remus?"

"I'm fine. I'm in my third year of teaching at Hogwarts, Transfiguration, you know. From the looks of it, you and Petunia are doing fairly well, too."

"Business is good. Of course, Harry helps out a lot, when he's not busy with sports or schoolwork..."

Harry sensed that this reacquaintance would take awhile, for Vernon had a tendency to brag about his nephew, so he excused himself to go take a shower.

After about half an hour, Harry clambered back down the stairs, hair still wet and wearing a new shirt and khakis. He noticed Aunt Petunia lurking about the doorway, muttering to herself about "those people." Harry shook his head and entered the kitchen, finding Vernon and Remus talking like old friends. They stopped talking as Harry entered, and greeted him warmly. Harry sat down across from Remus, relaxing visibly at how well his uncle and professor got along.

"We were just talking about you, Harry. Seems you're quite the scholar and athlete, huh?

Harry blushed. "I do all right, I guess."

"Boy's modest." Vernon chuckled.

"Well, I guess we should get down to business then. Harry, we'll be leaving for Hogwarts tonight, um, you'll be arriving at school about a month before the rest of the students. This is to acquaint you with the castle, to sort you into your house, and to get you started on some work to see what levels you're at."

"Houses?" Harry asked.

"Oh, right, you don't know. Well, Harry. At Hogwarts, there's four houses named after each of the four founders of Hogwarts. There's Gryffindor, where the brave at heart are supposed to go, that's your father's old house, Harry. Hufflepuff, for the loyal, Ravenclaw, for the bookworms, --that's where your mother and I were-- and Slytherin, whose pupils are supposed to be sly and tricky, although even though you think some of them are okay and you've known them forever, they turn around and stab you in the back."

Harry stared at Professor Lupin. "What are you talking about?"

Lupin started. "Oh...nothing, sorry about that, Harry.

"Uh, right. Um, Professor, could I ask you something?"

"Sure, Harry."

"Um. How am I supposed to catch up to everyone? I mean, they've been there for so long and I really don't know anything about magic."

"That's a very difficult question, Harry. Professor Dumbledore left a letter explaining it, and I'll give that to you once we get to Hogwarts. I don't really understand everything he did pertaining to you, but I am sure that you needn't worry about catching up. I think Minerva McGonagall wants you to take your O.W.L.s this year, as well."

"O.W.Ls?"

"They're tests you're supposed to take at the end of your fifth year: Ordinary Wizarding Levels. They're pretty important. I think we had a girl last year who got thirteen or fourteen, in fact."

"Er--okay...so, I guess I should stark packing then, right?"

Lupin slapped his forehead. "Oh! I almost forgot! Here's a trunk for your stuff." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small trunk, about an inch high, and set it on the floor.

"Um, I don't think that's big enough for all of Harry's things, Remus." Vernon said warily.

Lupin grinned widely. "Just give me a second." He then pulled out a long, thin stick of wood. "My wand." He explained. Pointing it at the tiny trunk, he cried, "_Enlargio!"_ and a stream of white sparks flew out at the trunk. To Harry and Vernon's surprise, the trunk shot up rapidly, growing to a regular size. The trunk itself was made out of a smooth mahogany with brass fixtures. On the top, also in brass, were Harry's initials. All in all, it was a very handsome trunk.

"Wow!" Harry gasped. "That's amazing!"

"I told you that this magic stuff was great, Harry! Now, I guess you'd better go and start packing. You've got a long journey ahead of you. I'm guessing about thirteen hours on a plane, right, Remus?" Vernon said.

Again, Lupin laughed. "Actually, it'll only take us seconds to get there. I brought some Floo Powder and we'll just head over to the Consulate and use their fireplace." Noticing Harry's very confused expression, he continued, "Floo Powder enables us to travel by fireplace. We can go from the Consulate to the pub in Hogsmeade, which is the town right by Hogwarts and from there, we can easily get to the school."

"Wow." Harry murmured again.

"Now, as Vernon said, I suggest you go and pack. We're expected to be at Hogwarts by seven this evening."

~*~

The rest of the day was spent throwing clothes and sports equipment into the trunk. Harry called Danny and Mrs. Chambers and they were to arrive shortly to say goodbye and accompany Harry, Vernon, and Remus to the British Consulate. 

Finally, the doorbell rang, and the Chamberses entered the house. Harry was sitting on his bed, just gazing around the room that he'd lived in for as long as he could remember. He had mixed feelings about going to Hogwarts—on one hand, he was really anticipating leaving Sofeba and seeing how his parents had lived. On the other, he felt that leaving home and all his friends and basically his whole life behind would be one of the hardest things he'd ever do.

Harry jumped as Danny burst through the door to his room. "Oh, hey, Danny." Harry said.

Danny looked shocked as he glanced around Harry's room. Once bursting with Harry's possessions, it now looked as though everything he owned was packed inside a large trunk sitting in the middle of Harry's room.

"How are you doing, Harry? It's almost time to go, I guess."

"I'm okay. It's just kind of weird to be leaving. You'll tell John and Sam and everyone I said goodbye, won't you? And I think I'll be coming back for Christmas break, so I'll see you then."

"Yeah, sure. No problem." He looked down. "I'm really gonna miss you, you know."

"I know. I'll miss you, too. This is like a whole new world; what if I don't fit in?"

"This isn't like you, Harry. You never worry about things."

Harry sighed. "It's just, I'm supposed to be famous and my parents were well-known and I'm just worried that I'll disappoint them somehow."

"You won't, Harry. I've been trying to live up to _you _my whole life. Trust me, you'll be fine."

Harry smiled. "You're right."

Just then, Uncle Vernon's voice rang up through the hallways. "Harry! Danny! Come on! It's time to go!"

Harry and Danny looked at each other. "Come on. I'll help you carry the trunk." 

Together, they lifted Harry's trunk and went downstairs. Lupin was waiting for them, wand in hand, ready to shrink Harry's trunk back to traveling size. Danny and Mrs. Chambers went wide-eyed as Harry's trunk almost blinked out of existence.

Taking one last look around his home, Harry walked out the door, looking back as Petunia called, "Goodbye, then." Harry smiled at his aunt's almost-sentimental gesture. At least that was better than nothing.

Piling into the back of Vernon's car, Harry watched as the familiar scenery sped by. Suddenly, Harry found himself in a part of town he'd never even seen before. People walked about the sidewalks dressed in long, flowing robes and signs reading things like "Zeeker's Joke Emporium—A Subsidiary of Zonko's" adorned the buildings.

"Where are we?" Harry whispered.

"This is Fantastic Alley. It's magic only. The Consulate is at the end of the street." Lupin answered. 

After a couple more minutes, he told Vernon to pull over in front of a large, white, building. "This is the British Consulate. Come on, we're expected."

Harry, Danny, Mrs. Chambers, and Vernon all followed Lupin into the magnificent building and up to an information desk.

"Hello." Lupin said cheerfully. "I'm Remus Lupin. I believe I have a Floo transport scheduled for 6:45?"

"Right. A few questions before, though." The man at the desk asked in a very bored, mechanical voice. "Destination?" Harry looked on in awe as the man's words inscribed themselves on a roll of parchment lying on the desk.

"The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade, Scotland." Remus answered.

"Passengers?"

"Two. Remus Lupin and Harry Potter."

At this, the man's head snapped up, eyes wide. "Did you say _Harry Potter_?" he asked breathlessly.

Lupin smiled. "Right, Harry Potter. I'm taking him to Hogwarts."

The man stared at Harry for a minute, other witches and wizards in the area who heard the man's exclamation stopping and staring as well.

"Um, hi?" Harry said meekly.

At this, the man's jaw dropped. Danny looked amused.

"Now, if you don't mind, Harry and I really need to get going, so please, can we continue?" Remus questioned, fighting back a smile.

The man shook his head, jolting himself back to reality. "Oh, right. Um...I—er—can't think what comes next...just go ahead. Room 234."

As they walked away, Harry avoided the stares he was getting from passers-by, some visible pointing at his forehead. 

"Remus?" Harry whispered. "Why are they pointing at my head?"

"Oh, right. It's your scar, Harry. That's the mark you got when You-Know-Who's curse failed."

"Oh." Harry was quiet.

Finally, they stopped in front of room 234. Remus pushed the door open, revealing a room with comfortable-looking armchairs and a blazing fireplace. "Well, this is it." Remus said.

Vernon wrapped Harry in a huge hug. "Goodbye, son." He whispered huskily.

Harry hugged him back. "G'bye. I'll see you soon."

Then Mrs. Chambers came over and hugged him goodbye. "Good luck, Harry." She whispered.

"It's time to go, Harry," said Remus.

Harry took one last look at his family, gathered around the fireplace. Lupin threw a glittering handful into the fireplace. The flames burned a brilliant green.

"Just step in the fire and say 'Three Broomsticks' okay? I'll go first. Watch me."

Harry watched as Remus stepped into the fire, crying, "Three Broomsticks!" and disappeared.

Harry smiled at Vernon, who was looking at him worriedly. "Three Broomsticks!' he shouted, jumping into the flames. The world spun around him. Suddenly, he felt himself hit a hard stone floor.

"Oof!" Harry said, looking up at Remus.

"Harry," Remus said, smiling, extending a hand to pull him to his feet. "Welcome home."

~*~

**Author's Note**: Hello! This is a joint project that, we hope, everyone will enjoy. The plot was concocted by NAPPA, and he and myself will be expanding on it and continuing as soon as we can. As far as this first chapter goes, we hope that everyone enjoyed it and will continue to look for future chapters. Thanks!

**Disclaimer: **This story was based on characters and plot lines developed by J.K. Rowling and in no way, shape, or form do they belong to us.

"The Magical Mystery Tour" is a song/album/movie by The Beatles, and, well, that doesn't belong to us either. 


	2. Chapter Two: Time of No Reply

****

Tangled Fates

A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

By PixyChick and NAPPA

Chapter Two: Time of No Reply

Grasping Remus Lupin's outstretched hand, Harry Potter pulled himself to his feet. Hastily brushing soot off of his clothes, he shot Remus an amused glance. "I don't even think I want to guess how that works."

Remus laughed as he led Harry over to the bar. "Welcome to The Three Broomsticks, Harry. We're in Hogsmeade, which is only a short walk from Hogwarts. We're due to meet Professor McGonagall in half an hour, but before that, I'm sure the lovely Rosmerta would love to serve us some of the finest butterbeer in all of Britain." He smiled at the pretty barmaid. "Isn't that right, Rozzie, dear?"

Rosmerta grinned. "Only the best for you, Remus. And who is this fine specimen of youth we have before us today? Certainly haven't seen him before, although, come to think of it, he looks an awful lot like-" she looked sharply at Remus. "Is this-it can't be--?"

"Actually, I think it could. Rosmerta, I'd like you to meet James's and Lily's son, Harry."

The pretty woman walked slowly out from behind the bar, tears in her eyes. Harry stood stock still, really wondering where this all was going.

"Harry?" she whispered, staring blankly at his face as though trying to discern something deeper.

Harry shot a sideways glance at Remus, who, in turn, looked away, hiding a smile, and not really offering any help at all. "Er-yes, that's me."

With that, she flung herself around his neck sobbing tears of joy. "I can't believe it's you! Lily and James's son after all these years! I thought for certain you had really died all those years ago; no one's seen hide or hair of you in so long!"

Harry pulled away, a little taken aback. "Um, yes, well, it's really nice to meet you, Rosmerta. I take it you knew my parents, then?"

Rosmerta laughed, smiling at Remus and Harry. "Oh, yes! I had all five of them in here almost every weekend, you know. Your mother was so lovely and your father was always so crazy about her. James and Lily, how I miss them! Even after they'd graduated, they'd stop by with you, Remus, and Peter and Sirius. How they used to make me laugh."

Remus's face hardened. "Yes, well, I really would rather not speak of Sirius and Peter, if you wouldn't mind."

Rosmerta looked down. "I'm sorry, Remus." She brushed away a tear and forced a smile. "I'll just get those butterbeers, then, shall I?" She walked away, then, leaving Remus alone with his thoughts and Harry with a mind full of unanswered questions.

~*~

Soon enough, Harry and Remus were walking along the roadway that led from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts. As the great castle neared, Harry found himself feeling something unlike he'd ever felt before: almost a sense of complete serenity and contentment, as if simply approaching the castle was special, as if he were finally finding the place that he'd been unknowingly searching for all his life_. Which_, Harry thought to himself, _could very well be true._

The two paused at a set of magnificent wrought-iron gates, each inscribed with the letter "H". Remus pulled out his wand and tapped the center of the gate, murmuring, "_pax eternal_" under his breath. With a great burst of air, the gates swung open, letting Remus and Harry pass onto the great, hallowed lawns of Hogwarts.

Harry had never seen anything more magnificent. The castle stood tall and stately, with beautiful towers and brickwork, spread about upon an immaculate, emerald green stretch of land. A deep blue lake sparkled in the distance, bordered by an immense forest. Gaping in wonderment, he followed Remus up the large stairs to a mammoth oak door. Knocking thrice, Remus pushed the door open and led Harry inside.

If it were possible, the inside of Hogwarts was even more beautiful than its surrounding grounds. Elegant tapestries adorned the walls and suits of armor decked the hallways. The most amazing thing was the ceiling in the Great Hall, which reflected the outside weather perfectly, making it appear as if the hall opened up to the heavens above. Mind spinning at all the magnificent sights he'd seen, all Harry could do was simply gasp, "This is beautiful," to Remus, who understood.

Sitting alone at the head table, Minerva McGonagall looked up sharply as the doors to the Great Hall swung open. Her breath caught in her throat as she glimpsed a tall boy with awfully familiar-looking jet-black hair following Remus Lupin into the Hall. After all these years, Harry Potter had at last come to Hogwarts, and Dumbledore, nor his parents, would be here to see him finally come into his powers.

Harry and Remus approached the solitary figure now standing beside the expansive table. "Hello, Minerva." Remus greeted cheerfully. "This is Harry."

The always-stern headmistress gazed at the boy, breaking into one of her extremely rare smiles. "It's wonderful to meet you at last, Mr. Potter," she said, extending her hand. "Remarkable. You're the spitting image of your father, except, you've got your mother's eyes."

Harry smiled awkwardly, shaking the professor's hand. "It's good to meet you, too, Headmistress."

"It's really quite exciting having you here, Mr. Potter. We've been waiting to see what you can accomplish for quite some time now." 

At this, Harry blushed rapidly. "Oh, well, I-er-don't really know what to say to that, Headmistress." He laughed. "And, if you wouldn't mind, could you please just call me 'Harry'?"

Minerva smiled again. "If you wish, _Harry._ Now, please follow me to my office. There's a letter there from Professor Dumbledore that has your name on it."

Harry nodded his consent and followed the two professors out of the Great Hall. Lagging a little bit behind, Harry was entranced by the twisting corridors and floating candlesticks that marked the halls of Hogwarts. Unbeknownst to him, up ahead, his professors were deep in conversation about him.

"What does he know about everything, Remus?" Minerva questioned softly.

"Well, I couldn't really tell him much, but he knows the basics about his parents and You-Know-Who. I told him why he couldn't come to school when he was eleven and a general idea about the War and everything." He paused, looking back at Harry. "It's amazing, Minerva. He's practically the living embodiment of the both of them, very polite and well spoken, once he gets over his nervousness-and my God, is he bright! Vernon said he was taking university courses as a sophomore at his Muggle school!"

Minerva let out a low whistle. "Incredible. He has so much potential. It kills me that Albus couldn't be here to train him himself. He would speak of Harry all the time. You know, I think that he somehow _knew_ that he wouldn't be here to train Harry himself; I wish now that I had remembered more of what Albus said about the boy-"

She trailed off as Harry caught up with them at the gargoyle statue that marked the entrance to the headmistress's office. Whispering "Oberon", Minerva led them all though the entrance and up the twisting staircases to the office. Settling down at her desk, she ruffled through her papers, pulling out a thick, yellowish, envelope, with "Mr. Harry Potter" written on the thick parchment in sparkling emerald green ink.

She handed it wordlessly to Harry, who slowly traced over his name with a finger before flipping the envelope and breaking the wax seal that held it closed. Removing the enclosed sheets of parchment, he unfolded his letter and began to read.

__

Dear Mr. Potter,

If you are reading this letter, it means that I, unfortunately, am no longer around. Although I bet my death was not much of a pleasant experience, I almost look forward to my impending mortality, for really, if you think about it, death is nothing but the next great adventure, and I really do feel that I have experienced enough here on Earth to accept that adventure with open arms. 

Enough about me, though, for it is you that I wish to speak of. Harry, you are a wizard unlike any other. Tom Riddle, who we all know now as Lord Voldemort, knew what I am about to tell you, and I am afraid that that is the reason for your parents' deaths and the curious scar that currently adorns your forehead. You see, Harry, your father's family is a direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor. Coupled with this, deeply buried on your mother's side, you also carry the blood of the great Merlin himself. Apart, your respective families blood meant nothing, except extraordinary prestige, but combined, as in your case, it can and has resulted in an extraordinary amount of power.

There was a prophecy made by a centaur a couple of months before your birth about the "scion of the Gryffin and the Master" who would purge the world of all evil, not once, but twice. It was foretold that this child would harbor immense power, power unlike any we've ever seen, perhaps, even greater than Merlin himself. This child would bring about the fall of the dark side and be marked by lightning. As you can see, Harry, this prophecy is obviously about you.

I know you are probably confused at this point, but all will be revealed, I hope, in due time. You are wondering how you can catch up all the time you've lost and, probably, a bit about your status here in the wizarding world. I assure you, that you needn't worry about much schoolwork, for as long as I am not too far off my mark, you will never have much trouble learning-magic will be a second nature to you, much like your Muggle studies, I presume.

There is one more thing, however. It is my gut instinct that leads me to tell you this, although what I am about to tell you is not concrete fact. I believe that the night Voldemort was defeated, he transferred some of his power to you, perhaps unwittingly. If I am not mistaken, you will have a vague recollection of already attending Hogwarts, memories, which will come to you courtesy of Tom Riddle's seven years here. Harry, if you begin to exhibit any extremely odd behaviors or dreams of any sort, I implore you to come directly to Professor McGonagall. I have left another letter of instruction for her if this case were to prove positive.

Above all else, Harry, I must tell you to be on your guard. Evil will never be fully defeated, and you are extremely powerful-- you will always be watched. Trust in yourself and in your teachers; they will always be here for you. Professor Lupin was a very close friend of your father's. I believe his door will always be open if you are ever in need of some advice.

Good luck, Harry. I know you will become the wizard we all know you can be.

Albus Dumbledore

Harry sat stone still, not even daring to lift his eyes from the paper. "How?" Harry muttered.

"Excuse me, Harry?' Remus asked softly.

Still looking down, Harry continued, "How can this be real? I-I've never been powerful. How can I be this prophesized...thing?"

"Haven't you ever felt it? Felt that every time you were in direct danger, something always happened, something inexplicable, that would help keep you safe?" Minerva questioned imploringly.

"I-I don't know. Is this like turning into a whale to save Danny when I was little?"

At this both Minerva and Remus's jaws dropped. "You can turn into a whale?" Minerva asked weakly.

Harry looked nervous. "I think so. I only did it once, though. It was so odd; I remember wishing desperately to just swim faster and then poof! I was a whale. Actually, I was quite scared, come to think of it."

"Do you think that you could turn into anything else, Harry? I mean, if you really tried?" Remus demanded.

Harry blinked. "Um-I could try, I guess, maybe. I never really thought about it."

"Okay, Harry. Try to turn yourself into a stag. Do you think you can?" 

Looking nonplussed, Harry closed his eyes. Almost immediately, a palpable wave of energy surrounded his body. As Remus and Minerva looked on in amazement, the air shimmered around Harry as his human form swiftly transformed to that of a robust, young, stag's. On the stag's lily-white forehead, directly above its sparkling emerald green eyes, a thin lightning bolt lay, etched into the skin.

As quickly as he had initially transformed, Harry became Harry again. Looking around wildly, Harry's almost frantic voice screeched, "I'm not supposed to be able to do that, Professor! People don't go around changing into _animals_!" He sat down heavily in the nearest chair.

For a moment, there was absolute silence as the two professors simply stared at the fifteen year-old boy. Finally, Minerva spoke. "Well, there are animagi, but I really don't believe that anyone can do _that_."

And utter silence reigned again.

~*~

Later that evening, after Harry had been given an impromptu tour of the grounds and put to bed in a spare bedroom, Minerva and Remus met in the headmistress's office.

"I can't believe it, Remus. How can he _do_ that? No one can have more than one animagus form! It's impossible!"

Remus looked worried. "I know, I know. I don't understand it, either. He is astonishingly powerful-more so than I ever dreamed. He's got to be trained quickly, Minerva."

"You're right. We'll catch him up to fourth year levels in the next month. He'll start there when term begins. Although, it would be quite interesting to see how he does on his O.W.L.s. Perhaps we can give them to him sometime after term starts and see what he gets. Maybe we should advance him a year if he does well."

"I don't really know what to do. But, you're right-I would love to see how Harry would do on the O.W. Ls. I think that could work, Minerva. Start him in fourth year classes, just to get him acclimatized and then, if his O. W. L scores are satisfactory, transfer him to fifth year classes."

"Sounds good to me. You'll be taking him for his wand tomorrow, right?"

"Right. We've got to start his lessons and he'll most definitely need a wand. I was thinking though, instead of buying the rest of his supplies now, we could send him back to Diagon Alley a day before term to get the rest of his supplies and then ride the train to school. It _is _where most students meet their closest friends. I'd like to see Harry get that chance, especially with him just beginning."

'You're right, Remus, although, when he does go back, I'd like you to be with him, just in case. You never know what the press will be like-especially if word that _Harry Potter _is back in England."

"Of course. That dratted Rita Skeeter would be salivating to get her talons in him. Perhaps he should take another name for a little while? For his own protection, at least."

"That might be a good idea, Remus. However, it's getting late-we better call it a night. I've got lessons to plan and you've got a trip to Diagon Alley bright and early tomorrow morning."

Remus smiled. "Of course, Headmistress. Good night."

~*~

Sunlight streamed through the elegant crimson draperies that adorned Harry's bedroom. Groaning weakly, Harry pulled himself out of his bed. Stumbling over to his trunk, he pulled out a t-shirt and a clean pair of jeans. Wardrobe in hand, he continued to his private bathroom, taking a quick shower and getting dressed for the day. Then he quickly set off in search for Remus-he had mentioned something about a wand.

Eventually finding his way to the Great Hall, Harry plopped down at an empty place beside Remus. "'Lo." He muttered through a yawn.

"Good morning, Harry. Did you sleep all right? You seem a bit tired today." Remus asked with a twinkle in his eye, taking in Harry's awfully tired face.

"What? Oh-yeah. It's just jet lag or something. I feel like it should be about four o' clock in the morning."

At this, Minerva laughed. "Actually, I don't think you're very far off with that estimate, Harry."

Harry groaned. "I'm so tired! I wanted to stay in bed, but it felt like there was some weird force that was forcing me to wake up-like I had to get out of bed."

"Oh, that's the alarm clock charm. I guess we forgot to take it off that bed. We cast it on all the beds so that no students sleep in and miss classes."

"Now you tell me." Harry mumbled.

"It's not so bad, Harry. Now, you're up early enough for us to beat the crowds in Diagon Alley. Hurry up and eat; I want to get going."

Harry's eyes widened in amazement as a large plate heaped high with scrumptious looking pancakes and sausages materialized in front of him. "Whoa." He cried, staring at his newly arrived food for a minute before digging in ravenously.

~*~

A half-hour later, Remus and Harry were once again walking down the road that led to Hogsmeade, the Three Broomsticks, and its public flooport. Harry was practically giddy at the prospect of buying a wand, and was amusing Remus quite greatly with his constant line of questions.

"Where will we buy my wand, Remus? Are there a lot of stores that sell them? What if I don't get the right one and I can't do magic? And-wait a second, how am I going to pay for this, anyway? I haven't got any money; at least I don't think I do. Uncle Vernon and I didn't even think about it when I was leaving. It'll take at least two days to get some money wired to me, what am I going to do then?" By this point, Harry was looking quite scared about the prospect of losing his not-yet-bought wand.

"Whoa, Harry, slow down! Trust me, you'll get the perfect wand and you'll be great with it. Don't worry about money-we'll just stop at Gringotts and get some out of your vault."

"Gringotts?"

"It's a wizard's bank. Your parents left quite a bit of money there for you, so I reckon you shouldn't have to worry about that for a while, especially with the interest that it's been collecting for fourteen years. Your family was quite well off, you know. I've got the key with me so it'll be no trouble."

They continued the rest of the walk in silence, Harry all the while wondering what other sort of mystical surprises he would find as he continued his journey deeper into the magical world.

When they reached the Three Broomsticks, Remus pulled out a small pouch and handed it to Harry. "Here's your Floo Powder, Harry. You know how to work it by now."

Breathing deeply, Harry threw the glittering powder onto the flames, making them burn their iridescent green. Yelling "Diagon Alley!" he jumped in and let himself be carried away.

Harry tumbled headfirst out of the fireplace, vaguely sensing Remus land behind him. Shaking off his clothes, Harry stood up, feeling quite foolish that he was on the floor. He gazed around the interior of the pub that they were in; it wasn't all that different from the Three Broomsticks. "Where are we, Remus?"

"This is The Leaky Cauldron, Harry. Just follow me and we can get to Diagon Alley though here."

Trying desperately to ignore the strange glances he was drawing from the other patrons, Harry looked straight ahead, flowing Remus out into a small bricked-in courtyard. Remus whipped out his wand, tapping the wall in a strange pattern and the wall rearranged itself, creating a large archway that revealed a bustling street on the other side.

Feeling awfully touristy, Harry followed Remus again, trying really hard not to gawk at the things some of the shops had for sale. Remus came to a stop in front of a pristine white building that stood tall among the small, very Dickensinian looking stores that surrounded it. An intricate looking plaque adorned the heavy, glass-plated doors, warning all potential thieves about Gringotts very foolproof protection system. Standing guard at the doors stood an extremely odd looking creature, impeccably dressed in a stately looking uniform. As Harry and Remus walked swiftly past, Harry could not resist whispering, "what _is_ that?"

"That's a goblin, Harry. Quite magical. Like the sign said, you'd be quite foolish to try and rob Gringotts."

Harry nodded his acquiescence, stepping slowly behind Remus as they approached an open counter.

"Hello." Remus said jovially to the goblin behind the counter who grimaced in return. "We'd like to make a withdrawal from Mr. Harry Potter's vault."

The goblin looked sharply at Remus for a moment before croaking, "Key, please?"

Remus fished about his pockets, pulling out a tiny golden key and pushing it across the counter to the goblin. He peered at it a second, then deciding, "that seems in order." He directed them to another goblin, who led them to a creaky-looking cart. Hopping aboard, Harry settled in a front seat and laughing mirthfully at Remus, who was standing on the platform, steadfastly refusing to get in the cart.

"Come on, Remus! It'll be fun!"

Remus glared sharply at Harry, "Yeah, sure. I've hated these things since I was young. James and Sirius used to make fun of me all the time-kind of like you're doing now."

"Who's Sirius?" Harry questioned as Remus tentatively entered the Gringotts cart.

Remus paled. Harry couldn't tell if his sudden lack of color had to do with his question, or the fact that their goblin had just started the cart up, sending them on a crazy journey at breakneck speeds down an incredibly rickety path.

"I'll tell you later." Remus choked out, ducking his head in his arms.

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry turned away from Remus, letting himself truly enjoy the ride. It was like flying-better than any roller coaster he'd ever been on before. Remus's silence bothered him though; this was the second time that a "Sirius" had been mentioned, and both times, Remus had abruptly changed the subject. Something had to be deeply wrong, for Harry had gotten the impression that Remus was normally a very open and steadfast man, one who usually wouldn't hide something big.

Harry was jerked out of his thoughts by the sudden stop of the cart. He looked over, watching the goblin leap out of the cart and meander over to a stone door set back into the tunnels of the cavern that they were currently in. Removing the tiny golden key from his uniform, the goblin unlocked the door, revealing an incredible wealth hidden behind the door.

Harry's jaw dropped as he walked towards the vault. "Is this all mine?" He questioned weakly.

Even Remus seemed at a loss for words. "Yes-um, I guess you had better grab some. You won't need much-- we're only getting your wand today. You'll be returning a day or so before term to get the rest of your supplies."

Drawing his eyes away from the immense treasure laid out before him, Harry questioned, "Why?"  


"Because then you can ride the train like the rest of the students. It's really a lot of fun. That's where I met your father for the first time."

"Oh. I guess that's all right then." He paused. "Remus, what are all these?" he said, walking towards his vault, which was filled with unrecognizable gold, silver, and bronze coins.

"Well, Harry. The large gold ones that seem to be in an extreme abundance here are called galleons. There are seventeen sickles to a galleon. The sickles are these silver ones here. And the little bronze ones are called knuts. There are twenty-seven knuts to a sickle. Got it, Harry?"

"Yeah, I think so. How many of these, um, galleons, do you think I'll need today?"

Remus deliberated. "Wands usually run from seven to thirteen galleons, and if you see anything else you're interested in, it would be good to have extra with you. Grab about twenty or so, that should be enough."

Harry entered the vault, finding a little dragonhide pouch resting beside the door that would serve perfectly for carrying his money. Scooping up some galleons and throwing them in the bag, he took one quick last look around; inwardly marveling at the wealth he had suddenly come in to.

The trip back to the surface was mildly uneventful, unless you counted Remus's mild exclamations of fright every time the cart scraped a corner. Exiting Gringotts and emerging into the bright sunlight, Harry and Remus wandered down the tiny streets, stopping every so often to look at some of the more interesting items for sale. Harry was particularly entranced by a spectacular looking broomstick that he could never imagine sweeping the floors with.

"Wow. What do they use that for?"

'That's a Firebolt, Harry. Best racing broom on the market. Very expensive."

"You can fly on that?" Harry asked.

Remus laughed. "Of course! How do you expect them to play Quidditch without brooms?"

"Awesome. Can I get one?"

"If you really want one, Harry. Your father was an amazing Quidditch player when we were at Hogwarts."

"Really? How do you play Quidditch?"

"It's easy, but I'll tell you when we get back to the school. I'll even take you down to the Quidditch pitch so you can test out your new broom."

"Sounds good. So, I can get one then?"

Remus laughed. "Yeah, come on."

They entered the store. Harry wandered about, gazing raptly at all of the really cool flying equipment, while Remus headed to the counter.

"Hello." He said cheerfully. "We're looking to buy a Firebolt."

At the word "Firebolt", the man's eyes lit up considerably, no doubt thinking of the huge commission he was going to get off of selling the famous broom.

"Sure! Follow me! The display's over here."

Remus followed the man, motioning for Harry to tag along beside him.

"These are some high-quality brooms here. Top of the line, used in all the World Cup matches, you know."

"Yeah. Now, this broom isn't for me, it's for my friend Harry, here, so you'd might as well ask him about the broom."

The man swiftly turned to Harry, firing off rapid questions at him. "Your weight? Height? Quidditch position?"

"Um, I'm 6'1, 135 pounds, and I don't play Quidditch."

The man stopped abruptly. "Then whaddya need a Firebolt for?"

Harry blushed. "Well, I think I would like to play Quidditch, I've never flown before, though. Actually, just found out about this magic business a couple days ago."

The man laughed. "Yeah, whatever, sonny." He continued forward, stopping at a glorious display portraying the Firebolt in many exciting positions pertaining to Quidditch. "This is the Firebolt. Best broom money can buy. Pick one." He motioned to Harry, who stepped forward, amazed by the exquisite beauty of the shining brooms in front of him, he felt drawn to one in particular, so he reached over, plucking it from the display. It hovered waist-high, looking almost expectant, waiting for Harry to hop on and fly away.

"This is the one." Harry breathed.

The salesman stared oddly at Harry. "I've never seen a broom respond that quickly to anyone. You sure you haven't played before?"

Harry shook his head, still staring at his broom, which, in his eyes, was simply the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"His father played for England a while back. I'm sure that's where he gets it from." Remus interjected.

"Really?" The salesman and Harry chimed together. "What position did he play? The man continued, shooting a look at Harry.

"James was a chaser. Spanking good, really. Now, can we pay for this already? We've got other things to do."

"Right."

The man led them back to the counter, where he wrapped the broom carefully and presented it to Harry. "That'll be 150 galleons, please."

Harry looked appalled. "Remus!" he whispered. "I've only got thirty or so with me!"

"Charge it to his Gringotts' vault, please." Remus said loudly.

"Right-o. Name and number?"

Remus drew the key out of his robes, and read the number off of it. "Er-vault 123, Harry Potter."

The man dropped his quill. "Harry Potter?"

"Yes. It's all in order, there should be no problem."

The man narrowed his eyes. "Sure. This is Harry Potter. Right. Now get out before I have to call the Ministry on you! Trying to scam me like that! Harry Potter, indeed."

Harry was livid. "I _am _Harry Potter, not that it's really any concern of yours. Now, can I have my broom?"

"You can't be Harry Potter. No one's seen him for fourteen years, ever since he drove You-Know-Who away."

"Same guy, right in front of you. What proof do you need?" Harry was quite angry.

The man narrowed his eyes. "If you're Harry Potter, then where's your scar?"

Wordlessly, Harry reached up, pushing a thick lock of hair off of his forehead. 

"Merf." The man warbled in shock.

"Can we just get out of here, Remus?"

Remus was scowling at the salesman. "Yes, Harry. He's got your vault number; it's all taken care of. Grab your broom and let's go get your wand."

They left the shop, not looking back.

~*~

Harry and Remus traveled in silence until they reached Ollivander's. 

"This is it, Harry."

They pushed through the door, finding themselves in a tiny, dusty room. The walls were covered by hundreds of thin boxes. A little old man made his way to the front of the store. "May I help you?" he questioned.

"Yes. Hello, Mr. Ollivander. Harry here is in need of a wand."

"Ah, yes. Harry Potter. I've been waiting for you."

Harry looked quickly at Remus, eyes wide. "Uh, huh."

"Don't just stand there, Mr. Potter, hop up here so we can get your measurements."

"Oh, right."

Harry stepped onto a box in the center of the room. Mr. Ollivander pulled out a measuring tape. "Which is your wand arm, Mr. Potter?"

"What do you mean?"

"Which arm to you use to write?"

"Oh, either, really. I'm ambidextrous."

Ollivander's tape measure clattered to the ground. Even Remus looked shocked.

"What?" Harry asked, looking nervous.

"Ambidexterity is a very rare trait amongst wizards, Mr. Potter. The choice of left hand or right hand often signifies a very similar power struggle within the wizard-that is, to go dark or light. It's not something many people talk about. As far as I can remember, there has been only one ambidextrous wizard I've ever had in here; and Mr. Potter, I remember every wand I've ever sold."

Harry gulped. This couldn't be good. "Oh. Um, can I still get my wand?"

"Of course, however, I must implore you to think hard about your place in this world, Mr. Potter. I sense a lot of power in you; it would be a shame to see you use it for the wrong reasons."

"I won't."

"It's good that you think that way, Mr. Potter. A lot of people look up to you. Best give them a reason to keep their faith."

A more subdued Harry accepted wand after wand that Mr. Ollivander handed to him; nothing seemed perfect.

Far from being upset about all the rejected wands, Mr. Ollivander, if anything, appeared more excited. "A tricky customer, yes, yes." He muttered as he nimbly crept about the shelves, plucking wands from their places as quickly as Harry could test them.

He paused suddenly, stopping in front of an extremely dusty box. "Holly and Phoenix feather." He whispered. Deliberating for a moment, he picked up the box, carrying it over to Harry. "I wonder-" he murmured, plucking the wand from its box and handing it to Harry.

The moment the wand touched his finger, Harry felt an incredible warmth come over his body, filling every pore with its light. He swung the wand upward; a stream of crimson and gold sparks following its path.

"Curiouser and curiouser." Mr. Ollivander whispered.

Still marveling at his new wand, Harry wondered, "What's curious?"

Staring deeply at Harry, Mr. Ollivander replied, "Like I said before, I remember every wand I've sold, every single wand. It just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in that wand gave one other, just one, and it is curious that you should be destined for that wand when its brother gave you that scar."

Harry shuddered. "Are you serious?"

"I never lie, Mr. Potter. All I ask is that you remember the advice I gave you today. You will have to make a lot of choices in your life; make sure you choose wisely."

Remus and Mr. Ollivander exchanged worried glances.

"That'll be eight galleons, Mr. Potter."

Harry handed the gold over to the older man, and stumbled out of the shop.

"Harry-" Remus began.

Harry cut him off. "Please. I'd just like to go home, if that's all right."

Remus nodded, and the two set off towards the Leaky Cauldron.

~*~

****

Author's Note: There it is, Chapter Two. I'd like to thank all the reviewers who took the time to share their thoughts.

Skeyeta: Thanks! Hope this is to your liking!

E. C. R. Potter: It's a very interesting type of love/hate...all will be revealed later! (Oh-I love your story, as well!)

Supernaturalgirl: Thanks! The H/H will be coming...you've just got to wait a bit! :)

Tara: Thanks! Here's the next chapter! The third will be up asap!

Andros: Thanks for your compliments-really makes it worthwhile to know someone likes what you do.

Yoka: Thank you! I'm glad you like my writing and NAPPA's brilliant plot! I hope I do it justice. Harry won't be in Slytherin-personally, I can't see him as a Slyth-but he won't be a Gryffindor, either.

Angel: Thanks! Here it is...be sure to tell me how you liked it!

Satan's Little Princess: V. cool review-thanks!

Bon: No H/H? Sorry, can't help you there...it will ultimately become H/H, although we'll have to go through many other H's before we get there. I hope that will be all right.

Janelle: Thanks for your review!

Sophie W. : Our very first review-thanks a lot! :D

Please review, everyone! It makes me feel all warm and toasty inside! I hope this chapter is all right. 

Until next time,

Lauren and NAPPA

****

Disclaimer: This story was based on characters and plot lines developed by J.K. Rowling and in no way, shape, or form do they belong to us.

Title is taken from v. cool Nick Drake song/album, namely, "Time of No Reply"--as before, no ownership there, either.


	3. Chapter Three: For What It’s Worth

Tangled Fates

A Harry Potter FanFic

By Lauren and NAPPA

Chapter Three: For What It's Worth

Harry Potter sat alone in his room, carefully examining his new wand. Mr. Ollivander's words rang clearly in his ears, _Think hard about your place in this world...make the right choice...lots of people look up to you...let them keep their faith..._

Harry sighed, burying his face in his hands. Through all of his fifteen years, he'd never been in a situation he couldn't handle; he was the go-to guy in the big game—he was cool under pressure—and now, Harry had the horrible feeling that he was about to let everyone down for the first time in his life. "How can I live up to all this?" he said aloud to no one in particular.

Feeling awfully foolish, he sank back onto his bed, burying his face in his hands, thinking. "_Everyone thinks you're something special, Potter. What are you going to do when they realize you're not_?"

Suddenly, Harry sat up, eyes determined. "_WHY are you beating yourself up over this? Who CARES what other people think? Just do what you've always done; believe in yourself and it'll all be okay."_

Done with the personal pep talk, Harry polished the fingerprints off his wand and bounded out the door, determined to find Remus and start learning enough magic to prove himself.

He wandered around the first floor, finding himself in a variety of interesting rooms he'd never seen before; one of which was strangely filled with a large assortment of chamber pots. Chuckling to himself, he continued his journey, feeling a bit more light-hearted when he began to recognize some tapestries and statues. Finding himself in front of a particularly familiar gargoyle statue, he paused, desperately trying to think of the password.

"It's a very interesting predicament, Minerva." Remus Lupin's voice carried from around the corner where Harry was standing. Hurriedly, Harry threw himself behind a nearby tapestry as Minerva and Remus approached.

"I know, Remus. It's obvious he's more powerful than either of us—and you say he's ambidextrous? I certainly never would have seen _that_ coming!"

"It's strange, as a baby, I remember him being right-handed." Remus mused as they came to a stop in front of the gargoyle, mere feet from where Harry was precariously pressed against a wall.

"Well, they say that the Dark Lord was left-handed." Minerva said darkly, "Oberon." The gargoyle swung open and Minerva and Remus entered, still conversing. "I imagine that his ambidexterity could be a result of the power-transfer; although, I really do wonder exactly how much of himself You-Know-Who put into Harry that night."

"I don't even want to think about it—" Remus's voice trailed away as they continued farther down the hallway that led to McGonagall's office.

When he was certain they had gone, Harry removed himself from his hiding spot, staring blankly at the place where they had disappeared. He knew from Dumbledore's letter that he had gotten some of Voldemort's power that night, although the magnitude of the situation hadn't really sunk in yet.

Feeling rather jittery, Harry opted to return to his room and grab his broom, rather than learn any magic today.

Firebolt in hand, Harry set out towards where Remus had said the Quidditch pitch was. Pulling out a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages that Remus had lent him, Harry sat down on the immense greenness of the pitch and began to read about the history and technique of this new sport.

As Harry read on, a bit of an idea began to form in his head: he could do this. Flying sounded _easy_. Quickly dismissing the rest of the long volume, Harry picked up his broom, swung his leg over the handle, and kicked sharply off of the ground. With a sharp whoop, Harry pulled the broom handle up, letting the wind whip through his hair as he soared around the pitch.

Feeling extremely brave, Harry leveled out his broom. Taking a deep breath, he pointed the broom handle straight at the ground, screeching in delight as the ground neared at an extraordinary speed. Throwing his weight, Harry swerved at the last minute, letting his toes brush the grass as he swooped overhead, feeling quite elated at pulling off the Wronski Feint that he had just read about in his book.

Smiling mirthfully, Harry flew high again, determined to attempt as many acrobatic feats as he possibly could before dark. In his happiness, he did not notice the two shell-shocked faces leaning out a window high atop the main turret.

"My, God, did you see that?" Remus gasped. "Great Scott, can he fly!"

"Oh, I really hope he's in Gryffindor! Heaven knows they need a better seeker, especially since that Ron Weasley got named captain and somehow decided that he'd play seeker. Really, though, Weasley can't fly like his brother. If he would just listen to me and be a chaser like I suggested, but _no_—"

"Okay, okay, Minerva! I know you're upset about Gryffindor's prospects, but remember—you're not head of Gryffindor anymore! You have to remain impartial! Even though that boy is running the team into the ground, we can't do anything about it!"

"Remain impartial, huh? Mark my words, Remus, if Harry Potter becomes a Gryffindor, I will _personally_ make sure that he plays seeker. It's about time Gryffindor got back to the glory days of James Potter and Charlie Weasley! It's embarrassing to see them play so badly! Why, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks after that last match! They need help!"

"I know, I know. But maybe Harry doesn't even want to play Quidditch, no one's asked him."

Minerva smiled darkly. "If it comes down to Gryffindor beating Slytherin, he won't have a choice."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Getting a bit catty, aren't we?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Remus laughed at the headmistress's stern expression, and settled back to watch James Potter's son fly to his heart's content.

~*~

Early the next morning, Harry felt himself being tugged out of bed. Groaning, he got up, shooting a look of utter contempt at his bed, which now seemed to be laughing at him. "Watch out." He said menacingly, "You won't be laughing once I learn how to take that blasted charm off." With that, he spun on his heel and made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Good morning, Remus, Minerva!" Harry cried as he entered the hall. "How are you today?"

"Fine, thanks." Minerva answered, smiling into her eggs. The boy was acting more like James Potter day by day.

"Good morning, Harry." Remus said, drawing a chair for Harry to sit beside him. "Eat up. We'll be starting your training today."

Harry nodded, "Okay."

After breakfast, Harry followed Remus to a wing he'd never been in before. "This is my classroom, Harry." Remus said. "We'll spend most of our time in here from now on."

"Okay." Harry replied meekly.

Remus walked over to his desk, pulling a pile of books off of it and handing them to Harry. "These are the first year course books. We'll be starting with them now."

Harry sat down at a nearby desk, shuffling though the books. "All these are just from the first year?" He asked.

"Yes. I know they look daunting, but they're really not that hard. You'll be fine." Remus smiled. "Now, pull out your Standard Book of Spells, and we'll begin there."

~*~

Six hours later, Harry wearily leafed through the pages of A History of Magic, searching desperately for the cause of the goblin rebellions of 1617. He and Remus had covered a compulsory basis of rudimentary spells, and Harry was proud to say that all of them came rather easily to him. Remus was impressed with Harry's ability to learn and perform all the spells he had asked of him.

They had studied spells, Herbology, Transfiguration, and now, were tackling history. After another half an hour or so, Remus called it a day—to tell the truth, he was as exhausted as Harry appeared to be. They agreed to meet again tomorrow to begin Harry's second year tuition. Harry wasn't really worried, although, Remus had mentioned something about spending entire weekends in the potions dungeon, which, obviously, didn't sound too appealing.

Harry dragged himself back to his room, books and wand in tow. He plopped his pile of books down on his bedside table and flopped backwards onto his bed. Pulling out his wand, he waved it about lazily, watching a trail of multicolored sparks flow about through tired eyes. 

Slowly, he drifted off to sleep, content for the time being.

~*~

_"Riddle!" a harsh voice cried. "Get yer good fer nothin' arse down here right this second! Ye've got vis'tors!"_

Turning of a doorknob...walking slowly down a light of stairs...an unfamiliar face seated on the ramshackle sofa... "You're a wizard, Tom."

Scenes flickered oddly...Floo Powder...an old-fashioned Diagon Alley...a large scarlet train...Hogwarts.

"Tom Riddle!" Feet were moving again...a hat clouded the vision...a tiny voice..."My, my! An interesting customer we've got here, now, haven't we? Tremendous power, my goodness, yes. We certainly want to prove ourselves, don't we? Well, with your blood, where else could you go? Must be SLYTHERIN!"

Classes flew by...learning spells...standing out in the greenhouses...transfiguring a desk into a pig...everything getting darker...

New faces, now...masks...a horrible face...the dark mark being etched on skin after skin...high, cruel, cold, laughter...a house...midnight...a man with untidy black hair screaming "Lily! Take Harry and run! Go! It's him!"

A flash of horrible green light...a deadened thud...more stairs...a door, blasted to smithereens...a beautiful woman, crying softly... "Have mercy! Please!"...A baby's cries...green light...green eyes...pain beyond pain...

Harry jolted. Shivering madly, he tried desperately not to scream, scenes still flickering madly in front of him. He pulled himself to his feet, wobbling unsteadily. Lurching to his bathroom, he splashed his face with cool, fresh water, all the while trying urgently to ignore the shooting pains that were streaking across his forehead. 

He gazed into the mirror. An unfamiliar face stared back: red eyes, sunk into a flat, white face-- a horrible, snake-like face. Harry screamed, shooting out a fist and shattering the mirror with a sharp blow. Harry fell to the floor, still shaking madly. He fitfully rubbed his forehead, fingers massaging the inflamed scar tissue that was causing so much pain. He slowly withdrew his hand, staring at it blankly. Blood dripped off his fingers, falling like teardrops to the floor. 

Feeling completely and utterly helpless for the first time in his life, Harry Potter curled up on the floor and cried.

~*~

Daylight soon approached, although Harry, still in the fetal position on the floor, did not stir. His scar had stopped weeping blood, hardening into an ugly, lightning bolt shaped scar. He slept, his fitful rest still plagued by horrific visions of unspeakable torture and bloodshed.

Remus pushed open the painting that guarded Harry's bedroom. Harry hadn't shown up for breakfast and, to put it frankly, Remus was quite worried. He hadn't known Harry for that long, but Harry hadn't struck him as the type to shirk off of important duties.

"Harry! Come on, mate, we've got to get cracking on the second year curriculum." He pulled the bed-sheets off the bed. Harry was not there.

Remus was almost frantic. "Harry?" He wandered into the adjoining bathroom. "Where are you? Are you—oh, my God!"

There, lying in a pool of blood and broken glass, was Harry, looking dreadfully pale and unconscious.

Remus dropped to his knees beside the boy. "Harry!" he cried, shaking Harry's shoulder to no avail. "Harry! Get up!" No response.

He ran to the fireplace, hurriedly lighting a fire in the hearth and throwing a glittering handful into the flames. "Minerva McGonagall!" he bellowed.

Quick as lightning, Minerva's head appeared in the flames. "Yes, Remus?" she asked crossly. "Anything that couldn't possibly wait until later?"

"Minerva, come quickly! It's Harry!"

The headmistress paled. "I'm coming through the fire." Remus stepped aside as the flames grew tall and green and Minerva stepped out.

"Where is he?"

"In the bathroom! Follow me!"

Minerva gasped loudly as she caught sight of the boy. "My God." She whispered. "What in the name of holy hell happened here?"

"I—I don't know what to do, Minnie! I just came in and found him like that. I tried to wake him, but he didn't move!"

"Let me try." She pulled out her wand. "_Enervate!"_

Harry groaned loudly.

"Remus! With me on three! One...two...THREE!"

The two spells combined did what the force of one could not. Harry sat up slowly and groggily. "Wha—what happened?

Remus plopped down next to him. "We were kind of hoping you could tell us that, Harry."

Harry pulled himself to his feet, putting a hand to his forehead, wincing as he felt the newly formed scab. 

"It was a dream, I think. I can't really remember. There was a lot of people; a lot of time passed and then I think I saw my parents and a lot of green light and then I woke up and came in here to splash my face and I looked in the mirror and—" he broke off, burying his head in his hands.

"And what?" Minerva asked soothingly.

Harry looked up, eyes pained. "There was a face—it wasn't mine—it was horrible; white-faced and horrible red eyes and I think I punched the mirror. My scar hurt. It was bleeding, I think. What does this mean? This has never happened before."

Remus and Minerva shared a glance. Finally, Remus spoke. "I think your dream wasn't just a dream; I think it was a vague representation of Lord Voldemort's memories—from finding out he was a wizard to when he met his downfall in you. I'm sorry you had to see your parents like that, Harry. We didn't know what these dreams would be like."

"Is this going to happen again?"

"We don't know. If it does, you must contact either one of us immediately, okay? Now, I don't think lessons would be at all appropriate today, so just do what you like. We have an extensive library that's rather fascinating and you could always go flying again. Whatever you like, okay?"

Harry smiled weakly. "Right now, all I want to do is go back to sleep. I'll probably check out the library soon, though." He paused. "And how did you know I'd been flying before?"

"We happened to look out the window in Minerva's office just in time to see you perform a rather admirable Wronski Feint. You fly beautifully, Harry. Your father would be quite proud of you. I know any team in school would kill to have you as seeker, you ever think about playing Quidditch?"

Harry nodded. "I think it would be fun. Really, though? I'd be good enough?"

"Absolutely, Harry. I know Gryffindor needs a better seeker." Minerva chimed in.

"Well, I'll think about it. But now, I'm really tired, so if you don't mind—"

Minerva and Remus smiled. "Sure. See you later, Harry."

Harry climbed back into his bed, pulling the rumpled sheets up around him. Shivering slightly, he let his head sink into his pillow, although his eyes didn't close for quite some time.

~*~

.

Later that day, after a long sleep, Harry wandered into the library. Staring around at all the immense shelves, positively bursting with thick tomes, he smiled; the library back home was a favorite haunt of Harry's, and this new library proved to be a welcome substitute.

Harry meandered around the shelves for a bit, searching aimlessly for a fiction section, although he suspected that there wasn't one. He would have to have Vernon send him some of his favorites from home, for reading was one of Harry's secret joys; a way to escape from everything. And really, when it comes down to it, you simply cannot do without a copy of Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye.

Grabbing a few books on the subject of recent magical history, Harry sat down at one of the many tables situated in the library and began to read. He felt horribly out of the loop when it came to magical history, so he figured that he simply had better teach himself. 

Flipping through a well-thumbed copy of The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, Harry was shocked to see his own name emblazoned on the top of a new page. Intrigued, Harry read further: 

In one of the most amazing magical occurrences in the past century, one Harry Potter freed our world from You-Know-Who's terrible grasp. On October 31, 1981 (Halloween), the Dark Lord showed up at the Potter's home in Godric's Hollow (see Gryffindor, Godric) obviously bent on killing the young family. To make matters worse, it has recently come to light that the Potters were aware of You-Know-Who's intent to kill them and put themselves under the Fidelius Charm (see Fidelius, Arturo), using Sirius Black (see noted criminals and Pettigrew, Peter) as their secret keeper. This obviously failed. It is known that James Potter, Harry's father, attempted to hold off You-Know-Who, trying to give his wife, Lily, and their son time to escape. James Potter fell valiantly, a hero to the last.

Lily Potter (nee Evans) was found, her arms still clutching her son, who was very much alive. James and Lily Potter were obviously killed by the notorious killing curse, Avada Kedavra. However, Harry, who also showed signs of being hit by Avada Kedavra, namely, a deep scar in the shape of lightning bolt situated on his forehead, was still alive. Furthermore, the Dark Lord vanished that night, not to be seen again for ten long years, until his servant, Samuel Quirrell, former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stole the Sorcerer's Stone (see Flamel, Nicolas and Dumbledore, Albus) from the school and used it to return You-Know-Who to full power. He was later defeated for good by Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, who gave his life in the attempt.

No one knows how young Harry survived the infamous curse; although something about the boy must have seriously stumped the Dark Lord that night. We are forever in debt to Mr. Potter for releasing us from His reign, even if just for a short time. At time of publication, Mr. Potter is living in New Zealand with his only living relatives, Vernon and Petunia (nee Evans) Dursley, where Mr. Dursley owns a successful sugarcane plantation. Mr. Potter is attending Muggle school, and is in the sixth grade level. 

Harry sat, staring at the page. That was what he had seen last night—Voldemort coming to his home, killing his father first, then his mother, then trying to murder him. Harry was beginning to get an idea about why he was so revered amongst the magical people and the strange reactions he got when they noticed his scar. One thing plagued him, however. What was this Fidelius Charm and who was Sirius Black? Remus seemed to want to ignore that subject; that much was clear.

Closing the book, Harry quickly left the library, heading to Minerva's office to get some answers.

~*~

Harry stood directly outside of McGonagall's office, debating whether he should just go in or knock. Making up his mind, he raised a hand and rapped smartly on the door. "Come in!" Minerva's voice called from behind the door.

Harry pushed the heavy entrance open, standing in the doorway for a moment. "Um, Minerva, can I ask you something?"

She looked up from her paperwork, "Sure, Harry. What is it?"

Harry sat down across from her desk, feeling nervous as Minerva fixed him with her trademark gaze, hands folded in front of her, eyes straight ahead. "Well, you see, I was reading this book in the library and there was a section about me and it said something about Sirius Black and the Fidelius Charm and someone named Peter Pettigrew, and when Sirius's name came up before, Remus never seemed to keen to talk about it, and I was wondering if you knew what it was all about?"

Minerva closed her eyes, biting her lip. "It's a very hard story to hear, Harry. Are you sure you want to know?'

Harry was adamant. "Yes, I'm sure. I want to know everything about what happened that night. They were my parents and this is my life and I feel like everyone knows more about me than I do!"

"Very well." She got up from her desk, crossing over to a large bookshelf. Selecting a thick, brown book from the shelf, she returned to her seat. Flipping through the pages, she paused for a moment on one, before sliding it across the desk towards Harry. "This is a picture of your mother and father on their wedding day. The man standing between your father and Professor Lupin is Sirius Black. He was your father's best friend and best man at the wedding. He is also your godfather."

Harry stared in awe at the photo. He only had one picture of his family, one enclosed in an old Christmas card that had "Lily, James, and Harry, Christmas 1980" scrawled on the back in a feminine hand. He had never seen one of just his parents, and he didn't believe that anything could look more wonderful than his parents, laughing and smiling together. He stared at the face of Sirius Black, his godfather. "What happened then? Why didn't he ever come to see me or anything if he was my dad's best friend?"

Minerva cleared her throat softly before speaking again. "Your mother and father knew that You-Know-Who was after them. You see, there was someone close to your parents spying for You-Know-Who. We knew that, although we weren't sure who it was. They were very popular, although they kept a tiny group closer than others; your mother and father, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew."

"Anyway, after consulting with Professor Dumbledore, they all decided that their best bet would be the Fidelius Charm, which seals a secret deep inside the secret-keeper's soul. The way it works is that while you were under the charm, You-Know-Who could be staring through your living room window and still wouldn't be able to find you, as long as the secret-keeper never told, that is. You need someone trustworthy, and for James and Lily, there was really no question. James and Sirius were closer than brothers. He would die rather than betray them."

"But if Sirius and my dad were so close, how did Voldemort find us?"

Minerva flinched. "That's just it. Barely a week after the charm was cast, Sirius Black, who all along was a supporter of You-Know-Who, told Him where you were hiding and the rest is history. When You-Know-Who lost his powers that night, Black went mad. There was a massive search for Black, and it was Peter Pettigrew that found him. Poor Peter, he always looked up to your father and Sirius. He confronted Black, screaming about how he betrayed Lily and James. Black pulled his wand and blew Pettigrew to smithereens. Peter never stood a chance. Black killed so many people that day—a dozen Muggles died with Pettigrew. They found Sirius standing over what was left of Peter, just laughing. He's in Azkaban now."

Harry sat, stunned. "You mean, if my parents hadn't trusted Black then they could still be alive today? How could he do that to us?' Anger was bubbling up inside him; more powerful than anything he'd ever felt before.

"There's no way to tell, Harry. The past is past and it's no good agonizing over whether or not something would have happened if they knew what we know now."

Harry was seething. His head was pounding and a white-hot glow was burning behind his eyes. "I just can't believe it." He said through clenched teeth, drumming his fingers restlessly on Minerva's desk.

Minerva looked at alarmed at Harry's anger. "Calm down, Mr. Potter! Please!"

Harry stood up, green eyes blazing. "I will NOT calm down! I just found out that my parents were betrayed by their so-called best friend, someone who also ruined my life! I've been wondering what really happened to them for years now! All Uncle Vernon would tell me was that they had died under 'mysterious circumstances'! He didn't know all of it, did he? Can you imagine what that's like? The not knowing why you're an orphan?"

"No, I can't. I'm sorry I told you. It might be better if you never knew." She pulled out her wand. Harry watched the wand through livid eyes. "Oblivate!" McGonagall cried. 

Harry felt a burst of energy hit him. He shook his head, clearing his mind. "What was that for, Professor?" he yelled. "If all you're going to do is hit me with useless spells, then please tell me where I can find this Sirius Black. I'd like to have some words with him!"

Minerva stared at her wand in shock. "How--?"

"How what, Professor?" Harry asked condescendingly. "I'm really not in the mood for all this right now. Please tell me where I can find the murdering traitor!"

"Do you remember what I just told you, Harry?"

Harry's eyes widened. "Of COURSE I remember what you just said! Do you think I'd forget something like_ that_?"

"Actually, yes, because I just cast a powerful memory charm on you."

"What?"

"You're not supposed to remember what we just talked about! How could you do that? No one can shake off the Oblivious Charm! It _always_ causes some distinct memory loss, it's never failed!"

"Well, it certainly appears that it hasn't this time. Let's just add it to the list then, shall we? Thanks to Sirius Black, I know that Avada Kedavra has no effect, so, you know, there's two. Any other dangerous charms you'd like to test out on me, Headmistress?"

Harry turned on his heel and marched out the door, leaving Minerva McGonagall standing, face pale, absolutely stunned.

~*~

Harry tore out of the Headmistress's chambers, heading towards his bedroom. As luck should have it, he ran directly into Remus.

"Whoa! Harry, where are you going so fast?" He asked lightly.

"What's it to you?" Harry retorted.

"Hey! What's with the attitude? You're not acting like yourself." Remus by now had noticed the murderous look in Harry's eyes. "Are you all right?"

"No, actually, I'm not. I just found out exactly why my parents died, something you obviously were never going to tell me and that our headmistress likes to cast potentially devastating memory charms on unsuspecting students for her own sick pleasure!"

"What are you talking about, Harry?"

"Sirius Black, that's what! And some weird 'Oblivate' curse! What the hell is the matter with all you people! Maybe I should just go back home to Sofeba! At least there they don't try to kill you or whatever she was trying to do!"

"Minerva told you about Sirius?"

"Yeah, because, like an idiot, I asked her to. Read something about the Fidelius Charm in the library. Why didn't you tell me, Remus?"

"It's not something I like to talk about, Harry. Two of my best friends are dead and the other is responsible for that! And wait a minute—if Minerva tried to memory charm you, how can you remember all of this?'

"It didn't work! And you think you're upset! They were my _parents! _I can't remember anything about them! My uncle is great, but all I've wanted for fifteen years is to have my real family back!"

"I know, Harry. I wish to God that I could have known what Sirius really was! I wish it every day! But I can't change it and neither can you!"

"Yeah, whatever. I can't be here right now. I'll see you later."

Harry ran down the hall, for the second time that day, leaving Remus staring sadly after him.

~*~

Harry flew up the steps to his room, shouting the password at the unsuspecting painting. It swung open and he vaulted inside, grabbing his broom, throwing the window open, and jumping out.

The early-evening wind blew madly through Harry's tousled hair as he flew madly over the grounds. All his anger dissipated as he flew. He let himself go, just marveling in the absolute delight of flying. It was very therapeutic to be outside in the splendor of an early-August sunset, feeling as completely free as a bird.

He swooped over a little stone cabin that he hadn't noticed before. Landing softly, he walked around the house, taking in all of its little eccentricities. 

"Hey there! Who are ye and what are yer doin' creepin' about me house?"

Harry jumped and swung around. There stood an incredibly huge man. Trying hard not to gape, he squeaked out, "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't realize anyone lived here! I'm sorry to bother you. I'll be leaving now."

The giant took a step towards him. "Ye look familiar? What's yer name?" he questioned.

"I—um—I'm Harry Potter, sir."

To Harry's utmost astonishment, the giant ran at him, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. "Harry Potter! It _is _you! I haven't seen ye since you were a baby!" he sobbed.

Harry struggled out of the behemoth's grasp. "Um—"

"Me name's Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds here at Hogwarts. I also teach Care of Magical Creatures."

"Oh, hello, Professor Hagrid. It's good to meet you."

Hagrid burst into fresh tears. "Yer ever so polite! Just like yer parents! Ye can call meh Hagrid, Harry."

"Oh. Okay, um, Hagrid."

"Ye look so much like yer father, Harry. The spitting image! And yer eyes! They're Lily's al'right!"

Harry smiled. "Did you know my parents well, Hagrid?"

"Sure did! They used to come down to visit me all the time when they was at school! In fact, ye know, I pulled yer out of your house meself that night."

"You were there?"

"Well, not until it was too late, ye know. Professor Dumbledore, God rest his soul, sent me over there ter fetch yeh meself. He says to bring yeh to yer aunt and uncle's house and so I did."

"Oh. Right."

"What're we doin' still standin' out here then! Come on in and have a cuppa with meh!"

Harry appraised the giant's large, friendly face and smiled. "Sure, Hagrid." He shouldered his broom and followed him into the cozy little home.

~*~

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Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long to get out, but I had the flu all week and so the majority of my time was spent lying pathetically on my couch. I'm feeling better now, though. :D I hope this chapter was satisfactory—I wrote it rather quickly. I know Hagrid's speech is horrid, but I'm doing the best I can. :D Any comments or criticisms, or just anything you'd like to say, leave a REVIEW! I read them all and, I must say, am absolutely delighted by the response we've gotten for this fic! Thanks so much everyone, especially:

Muggle: Thanks for the review! I hope you like this chapter!

Nutmeg: I'm glad you like it! :D

Mini-Potter: Whoo! No Dudley! It's awesome for me that you like it! Yea!

Sketeya: Two reviews for one chapter?! You certainly are great! Here's the next chapter!

The Red Dragon's Order: Thanks for the encouragement! :D 

Animagus-Steph: I can't wait to get Harry to the train—it'll be a pivotal point—hopefully, next chapter.

Bill Weasly: Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Ricardo: Thanks for the complements, although, I am going as fast as I can. I'll try to get the next part out as soon as I can!

?: Thanks for the encouragement!

Jeremiah: Personally, I'm not a Ron-fan, but I am going to try to not completely bash him in this story. He will have an interesting personality that will make him difficult to deal with, though. Whoo! H/H forever! :D (I love that article!)

Gaheris: Thanks!

Yoka: Yes, Harry will be a Ravenclaw. :D You figured me out! The Express will be coming soon! I swear it!

Shades of Grey: Thanks! I love your story, too!

Lunarian: The H/H relationship will be very rough going for a while...but true love conquers all! ;)

Janelle: Yes, Harry'll be a Ravenclaw. I hope you like this part!

UMSLtifosi: NAPPA's working hard at "Septanic Dueling" don't worry! I'm glad you like this story as well!

Linz: Thanks! This is the longest story I've ever written so far...hope it turns out okay!

Bunny Lee: Thanks!

Achilles: Here's an update! I'm glad you enjoy my writing. :D

Lone Wolf: NAPPA had a great outline set up for me; I hope I do it justice!

A-Man: I'm glad you like the story so far! 

T. Cairpre: Thanks! I think I've read some of your stuff before—you're awesome!

Satan's Little Princess: Thanks for the review! Here's the next part—hope you like!

Codfish: Aww! I'm blushing! Really, I am!

Kat: yes, I'm rewriting it...hope you approve of what I've done so far! :D

Andros: Well, that would we giving away too much! All I can say is that for now, Ron and Hermione are quite close...and Harry has his eye on someone else as well!

Tara: Yep, Harry's Ravenclaw bound. I'm glad you like the story!

Angel: Hmm...I think Harry'll usually use his right hand, although, his wand will work with both. I hope you liked this chapter!

TO ALL REVIEWERS: Thanks so much, all of you! You really make this all worthwhile! I hope everyone enjoys this chapter—Harry's little hissy fit included!

****

Disclaimer: This story was based on characters and plot lines developed by J.K. Rowling and in no way, shape, or form do they belong to us.

The title comes from the Buffalo Springfield song _For What It's Worth._ (Great song!) We don't own that, either. 

Thanks, and remember to review! I love to get feedback!

--Lauren and NAPPA

February 2, 2002

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	4. Chapter Four: Don’t Fear the Reaper

Tangled Fates

A Harry Potter Fan Fic

By Lauren and NAPPA

Chapter Four: Don't Fear the Reaper

Harry entered the stone cottage, at once feeling awfully at home. Hagrid motioned to an enormous table and chair set in front of the fire. "Sit down there, Harry." Harry sat, looking back at Hagrid while he bustled about the adjoining kitchen, preparing a tray of tea and biscuits, most of which looked surprisingly inedible.

Hagrid settled himself across the large butcher-block table from Harry. "How're ye doin', Harry? I didn' know ye were back a' Hogwarts!"

Harry smiled, accepting the cup that Hagrid offered him. "Professor Lupin came and got me only a couple days ago. It's really weird being here. I never even knew I was magic until Remus told me!" 

"Ha! James an' Lily's son, not bein' magic? Tha's a laugh!"

"What do you mean?"

"Yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever seen! Head Boy and Girl here a' Hogwarts in their day! Why, I reckon yer name's been down fer Hogwarts since ye've been born!"

"Really?" Harry paused. It was awfully easy to confide in Hagrid; he felt like he'd known him forever. Something about his cheerful face made it easy to open up. "That's another thing. Everyone knows more about me and my family than I do! My Uncle Vernon told me all he could about my mum and dad, although he didn't really know them very well and my Aunt Petunia refuses to ever speak of them. I just had a horrible fight with Remus and Minerva just now about practically the same thing." He paused again. "Can I ask you something, Hagrid?"

Hagrid put down his cup and looked Harry right in the face. "What is it?"

"Do you know anyone named Sirius Black?"

At these words, Hagrid jumped up from the table, eyes aflame with anger. "Why tha' good-fer-nothin', low-down, dirty tosser! Murderin' traitor, that one is!"

"Then you know what he did?"

"Professor Dumbledore tol' me all about Sirius Black after we dropped you off a' yer Uncle's house. I never woulda' believed it if I hadn' heard it fer meself! Yer father an' Black were the best o' friends a' school an' a nicer kid yeh couldn't find. Let me tell you now, Harry, if I e'er see that two-face' dog, I'll rip 'im apart with me own two hands! Lily an' James! Two nicer people yeh couldna find!" Hagrid dissolved into sobs, burying his face in an enormous flannel handkerchief.

Harry sat silently, not knowing what to do. He'd never seen anyone like this before. "It's okay, Hagrid." He said quietly. 

Hagrid righted his chair and sat down. "I'm sorry fer reactin' like that, Harry. Dunno what came over me."

"It's all right. I'm afraid I just did the same thing to Minerva and Remus up at the school. I feel really bad about it now. I just blew up about this whole Black thing. I don't even know why, really, just that they didn't tell me before. And I didn't even _think _about Remus's feelings! He was friends with my dad _and_ Black! It must be loads worse for him." Harry sank down in the chair, eyes averted, feeling very foolish.

"I don' blame yeh for actin' out, Harry. You got some devastatin' news about the family yeh'd never known an' yeh reacted instinctively. Nothin' to be ashamed of."

"I guess you're right. I won't feel better until I apologize, though."

Hagrid smiled. "Yeh're a good kid, Harry, yeh know that?"

Harry laughed, waving a hand as if to say, "Yeah, go on."

The two talked together for a bit before darkness fell, making Harry feel it was time to return to the castle.

"Thanks, Hagrid. For everything. I'll come down and visit you again soon."

Hagrid swept Harry up in another bone crushing hug. "I'll be waitin' fer yeh!"

Harry mounted his broom and took flight, heading for his third-story bedroom window. Floating gently through the open drapes, he set down next to his bed, resolving to rise early the next morning to make amends with Remus and Minerva.

~*~

The next day, at daybreak Harry woke up, quite relieved that there had been no dreams that night. Feeling antsy, he dressed quickly in a pair of white mesh shorts and a navy t-shirt and padded down the hallways and out to the lawns, determined to set out on a good run.

He jogged over the whole grounds, seeing rose gardens he'd never noticed before and marveling at the very size of the property Hogwarts possessed. It was a beautiful morning and as he ran, there was only the earth and himself; separate from everything—from magic, from dreams, from reality—and it was wonderful.

The sun streaked through the trees on the fringe of the forest, creating strange shadows on the green grass beneath. He moved quickly and fluidly through the shadows, skimming the grass with the slightest touch of his sneakers, flying in his own special way. 

He moved faster and faster, becoming one with the fluid movement that running was. His muscles liquefied, stretching, reaching farther and farther with every footfall. He fell forward, landing on all fours; paws extended and ready to carry him faster than he'd ever dreamed.

His coat gleamed with an unearthly shine, golden brown and black fur stretched tautly over rippling muscles. His emerald green cat eyes shone brilliantly in the sunlight, reflecting both wisdom and an intensely animalistic sense at the same time.

Time halted and all stood still. Man and beast merged in this perfect union and nothing was ever so natural, so free, as this flight-on-land on a summer's morning. 

The air around him shimmered and feet and legs grew in place of paws and raw muscle. The spell was broken and yet, he continued to run, trying, but failing, to achieve the same equilibrium between man and nature that he had had only moments before.

He disappeared into the castle, not noticing the large form of Rubeus Hagrid standing stock-still, gaping in amazement.

~*~

Harry showered quickly, the adrenaline of the run still pulsing through his veins. He trotted down to the Great Hall, looking out for his professors who had become his friends, resolute to apologize. 

Much to his surprise, Hagrid was there, speaking rapidly and gesturing madly. Harry walked up behind Hagrid. "Hey! What are you doing here?"

Hagrid jumped, looking ashamed. "Uh, hello there, Harry."

Minerva spoke. "Hagrid was just filling us in on something."

"Oh." Harry paused. "I've been meaning to speak with you, Professors."

Remus and Minerva looked worriedly at each other. 

"I just wanted to say that I'm terribly sorry about how I acted yesterday. It was inexcusable and very rude. I hope you'll accept my apology."

Remus smiled uneasily. "Oh, well, we accept." He stopped, looking at Minerva for confidence. "Are you sure there's nothing else you wanted to tell us?"

Harry was confused. "No," he said warily. "Should there be?"

"Where were you this morning, Harry?" Minerva questioned.

"Oh! I went for a run this morning, but that's it. I am allowed to that here, right?"

"Yes, but that's not the point. Hagrid says he saw you change into an animal. Why didn't you tell us you could change so fluidly?"

Hagrid was looking down, blinking back tears at having betrayed Harry. "I've never seen an'thin' like what I saw today."

Harry was staring at his professors, extremely perplexed. "Excuse me, but wouldn't I know if I had done something like that?"

"You don't remember?" Remus looked worried. "Hagrid said you were running by the lake and all of a sudden, you transformed into a large cat, like a cheetah or a leopard, and then you changed back into yourself."

Harry sat down hard on the ground. He had a vague memory of running faster than he'd ever imagined, low and steady to the ground, feeling like the very essence of magic itself. "I remember running—it was different this time, it was like I was part of the Earth rather than standing outside. I ran faster than I'd ever before. It was incredible. But I honestly don't remember transforming into a cheetah."

"Harry, I'm not going to lie to you. This could be a very serious situation if you can't control these changes. You could transform in the middle of a class or something. We can't risk students being hurt like that, and—"

"What? Are you sending me home?" Harry cried, indignant."

Minerva spoke slowly. "No, I'm not going to send you home, however, your magical training with Professor Lupin, as well as the other professors as soon as they come back from holiday must be greatly accelerated. You need to understand the power you possess, and then, hopefully, you'll learn to harness it. You were a very powerful wizard in your own right, and that was before the Dark Lord transferred his powers to you that night. You need to understand, Harry, that you have to be in control all the time. We can help you learn, but we cannot protect you from yourself. Do you understand?"

"I do. I'll do anything I need, just tell me what it is."

"Right. It's good to see that you have enough courage to go through with this. Your lessons will recommence immediately. Luckily, our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will be returning in two weeks, along with our Potions professor, and so they will be able to instruct you more in those areas." Minerva paused. "There is something else we need to discuss, though."

"Yes, professor?"

"In two weeks time, most of our students and professors will be returning early. They'll only be here for the day, but you may want to stay out of sight for a little bit. I don't know if it would be a good idea if Harry Potter were to show up at this."

"What's going on, Minerva?"

"There's a memorial service. One of our students gave his life during the battle here at Hogwarts. He threw himself in front of Dumbledore, blocking him from the Avada Kedavra curse, giving him time to prepare the spell that eventually won the fight for us. His name was Cedric Diggory. He was our Head Boy and a great man." Both Remus and Minerva looked as though they were holding back tears at the end of this statement. Hagrid, however, was bawling openly.

Harry bowed his head. "He sounds like an incredibly brave person. I wish I could have had the chance to have known him."

Minerva sighed. "He was. He was the living persona of all the traits that Hufflepuff house possessed. This service will be very hard to sit through. Diggory was very well liked and his loss was taken hard. I just think it would be better if you didn't make your first appearance at this, you know?"

"Of course. I wouldn't want to take any of the attention off of Cedric at all."

"Good. Then that's settled. Please excuse me, I have business to attend to, and I believe that you and Professor Lupin have some work to do." Minerva got up, curtly nodded to Harry and left quickly.

The Hall was silent for a moment. Finally Remus spoke. "Come on, Harry. We've got a lot to cover."

He waved goodbye to Hagrid and silently followed Remus to the Transfiguration room.

~*~

Time passed quickly at Hogwarts, for Harry was quite busy learning all he could in such a short time. He and Remus had covered the entire fourth year curriculum, although, he was quite behind in Potions and Herbology. Still, everyone was pleased with Harry's progress. Minerva had even decided to start Harry in the fifth year, instead of the fourth as she had originally planned.

The days went quickly and the nights were relatively uneventful. Harry had not had any more dreams since that first night, and was quite glad for it. Before he knew it, it was the day of Cedric Diggory's memorial service.

The Great Hall was decked in solemn black flags, all showing respect to the fallen student. Harry stood in his window, watching a scarlet streak speed up to the station in Hogsmeade. That was the Hogwarts Express, he knew, and that meant that the guests had arrived. 

He walked slowly down to the Hall, looking for Remus to tell him that the train had arrived. He kind of wanted to go to the service, to get a feel for the people he would shortly be attending school with, but, he knew he'd feel horribly out of place there and knew it really was for the best that he not attend. 

He turned the corner and promptly fell, tripping over a small, huddled figure dressed entirely in black.

"Oh!" the figure cried as Harry hit the floor beside her.

Harry sat dazed on the floor, absently rubbing his hip where he had smacked it off the hard stone floor.

She stood up, hastily wiping her eyes. "Here," she said, extending a hand, "let me help you up."

Harry gratefully accepted the hand and got to his feet. "I'm terribly sorry, miss. I didn't see you there."

She gave kind of a miserable giggle. "No, it's my fault. I shouldn't be sitting in the middle of the hallway, anyway." She brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Are you here for the service? You don't look familiar."

Harry stood for a minute, looking at the girl in front of him. She was dressed in floor-length black robes, which suited her stick-straight jet-black hair perfectly. She was very beautiful, although her eyes were unmistakably red-rimmed from crying. For a minute, Harry was quite glad that he had dressed well today, before cringing. No one was supposed to see him today. He instinctively willed some of his power to cover up his scar. Tentatively, he reached up a hand and felt a smooth forehead. Amazed, Harry replied to the girl. He hadn't really expected that to work. "Oh, no. I'm a new student and I'm just staying here to get a bit caught up."

"Oh." Her eyes filled with tears again. "My name is Cho Chang. Cedric was my boyfriend."

Harry's heart melted in pity for this little slip of a girl who was trying so hard to be strong. "I'm very sorry. Minerva—I mean, Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin told me what happened."

This time she broke down in heart-wrenching sobs. "He was so stupid! He wasn't even supposed to be there! We were all supposed to stay in the castle and then I couldn't find him and I saw him running out of the Hall and I couldn't catch him! If I was faster, I could have gotten to him and stopped him from going! I could have saved him, but I wasn't good enough!"

Harry reached out an awkward hand, patting her shoulder. Without hesitation, Cho fell into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, whispering that it would be all right.

A few minutes had passed and Cho's sobs had subsided. Her breathing was still ragged and uneven, and Harry still held her close, letting her calm down. Hastily, she pulled away, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

"I'm so sorry! Here I am, crying in a complete stranger's arms! You must think a fool of me!"

"Oh, no! It's perfectly all right. I don't mind."

"You're a very kind person, you know that? What's your name, anyway?"

"I'm Harry. Harry—um—Dursley." He stammered.

Cho smiled weakly. "It was very good to meet you, Harry Dursley. I think I have to go now, but I'll see you later."

"Yeah, sure. It was good to meet you, too. Good luck, Cho."

She nodded once in reply and walked silently away. Harry stared after her for a moment before returning to his room. He couldn't risk being seen by anyone else that day.

~*~

The ceremony went well, although there were a good deal of tears shed that day. When everyone had left, Harry retreated from his room, looking for Remus once again to tell him about what he had done to his scar. After he had left Cho, he had made the scar reappear, and he had regained energy he hadn't even known he had lost. Harry guessed it had taken much more magic to hide the scar than he had estimated, although he really wanted Remus's opinion on the subject.

He found Remus in his office, pouring over a thin black book and looking quite melancholy.

Harry rapped softly on the door, entering as he did so. "Remus?"

Remus looked startled, slamming the book shut as he looked up. "Yes, Harry?"

"Is this a bad time? I have something to talk to you about."

"Not at all. Have a seat." He motioned to the chair across from him. Harry sat down.

"Earlier today, I was walking around the Great Hall and I tripped over this girl. I didn't want anyone to know who I was, so I tried to hide my scar. It was an instinctive thing—like I somehow knew how to do it and I just did it. But I willed my scar to be gone and it was!"

Remus leaned forward on his arms. "Are you saying that you can consciously alter your appearance?"

"I think so. It was almost like I rerouted some of my magic directly into covering up my scar. The only thing was that when I made it reappear, I felt so funny—like I was exerting so much more energy than I realized and it all came rushing back at once."

Remus massaged his temples, looking perplexed. "This is pretty big, Harry. Most full-grown wizards cannot do what you have just said you accomplished. In fact, really only the Aurors still do it when they need to be especially discreet. It's a very magically draining process. I'm surprised you're able to walk around now, actually."

"I feel fine, though."

"Well, you're certainly a special wizard, Harry. There seem to be special circumstances concerning everything when it comes to you."

"I guess." Harry felt uncomfortable. "But wouldn't it be better if I wouldn't have to deal with all that? I mean, if people didn't know that there was anything special about me to look for?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I told this girl Cho Chang, that my name was Harry Dursley and I was thinking that if I continued to go by that name and hid my scar then no one would have to know who I really was and I wouldn't get any special treatment from anybody."

"Actually, Minerva and I were debating whether or not to have you use an alias. If this is something you'd like to do, then go ahead. I'll let Minerva know so nobody spills the beans. But, are you sure about this? I told you, changing your appearance really drains you and you could have that screen up all year. It would be really difficult for you. I don't want you to get sick."

"It'll be okay. I want to do this. You saw how everyone reacted when they heard my name in Diagon Alley. I want to succeed on my own, not for being Harry Potter, but just for being Harry."

"That's very admirable, Harry. I understand where you're coming from and I think we should give it a shot. But for now, you had better go to bed. Your new professors are back and lessons start first thing tomorrow."

"Is it that bad, Remus?"

"Well, let's just say that it's hard to get along with these professors sometimes."

"Ah. Thanks for the heads-up. I'll see you at breakfast?"

"Sure. Good night, Harry."

"'Night, Remus."

~*~

Harry sat in the Defense classroom for at least fifteen minutes, nervously tapping his wand against the desk, waiting for the as-yet-unnamed professor to make his entrance.

Suddenly, the door burst in and an extremely ill tempered looking man with a curtain of lank black hair and a large nose stormed in.

"Potter." The word was spit out with such venom that Harry impulsively recoiled.

"Um, hello. You must be the Defense—"

The man cut him off. "If I had asked you to speak, then I would care to listen to you, but since I did _not_, be quiet!"

Harry sat perfectly still.

"I am Professor Snape and I will be teaching you the basics of Defense Against the Dark Arts. And do not think for one moment that I appreciate having to cut my own holiday short just to teach our new resident celebrity privately."

Harry gulped. "Actually, Professor, I'd rather not anyone know about that."

Snape smirked. "Yes, the Headmistress mentioned something about that. So, Mr. Potter, you want to be incognito while you're here at school. Well, you can be sure I won't say anything about it—you certainly don't need anymore fame going to your head or else you'll turn out just like your father and no one wants that."

Harry bristled. "I would be proud to turn out like my father. He was a good man."

Snape laughed coldly. "Your father was not perfect, Potter, so don't get any deluded impressions of your 'saintly father'."

"I never said he was perfect, Professor Snape. Why do you hate him so much?" Harry was quite angry.

"Your father had a tendency to strut about like owned this school. I do not like conceited athletes like him and I trust that will be enough for you. Now, if you've finished wasting my time, get out your book and turn to page two sixty-five..."

~*~

After three of the most excruciating hours of his life, Harry retreated to the Great Hall for lunch and a well-needed break from Professor Snape. He seated himself next to Remus, sighing deeply as he did.

"Have a good morning, Harry?" Remus asked.

"Ugh. Why does he hate me so much? All he did was sit there and belittle my intelligence and make stupid cracks about my dad. It really wasn't a good day so far."

"Yes, Severus was at school with your father and me. Never really got on, though. Surprisingly, ever since he'd gotten the Defense post he's been rather bearable. I was hoping he'd be civil to you." 

"Actually, the first thing he did was yell at me for trying to say 'hello'."

"Severus was never one for pleasantries."

"Yeah, I gathered. Wait—what's the Potions Master like?"

"That's Professor Gudgeon. He's basically all right. He had a mishap with the Whomping Willow when we were at school and lost an eye—still gets rather tetchy about that sometimes."

"He doesn't hold any weird grudges against my father though?"

Remus laughed. "No, I think you're safe there."

"Good. I don't think I could stand much more. Do you know how much work Snape assigned for tomorrow? I'll be busy all night!"

"Get used to it, Harry. You'll work hard here. That reminds me, term begins in a week and you and I will be heading back to Diagon Alley to get your course books and robes, so you'll want to get ready for that. You'll be beginning your little disguise then, right?"

"Yeah. Wow. I hadn't realized school started so soon. I'm kind of excited, but then again, I've always liked school. Danny always made fun of me for that."

"Well, that's because you're too smart for your own good."

"Yeah, and I'm a naturally talented athlete, too."

"And ever so modest."

"Yeah, that too."

~*~

Soon enough, Harry found himself tripping through the green fire into The Leaky Cauldron once more. He felt a lot less conspicuous, his scar safely concealed beneath a layer of magic and with Remus guaranteeing not to use the name "Potter" all day.

He bought long black robes that were to be worn on top of pressed gray pants, a blue-gray sweater vest and white oxford shirt at Madame Malkin's and then hurried over to Flourish and Blotts to pick up his required books. Remus had him buy not only the fifth-year books, but also those obligatory for the sixth year, explaining that Professor McGonagall had decided to have try to pass his O.W.L.s shortly after the beginning of term. These results would be used to see whether or not Harry would move to sixth year courses. Remus was confident that Harry would pass and told him so.

Remus steered him into the Apothecary's, picking up a general assortment of potion ingredients for Professor Gudgeon's class, along with his very own pewter cauldron standard size two. They bought quills and parchment and a really interesting bottle of color changing ink that struck Harry's fancy.

Laden down with his packages, Harry and Remus wandered through the twisting streets of Diagon Alley. Harry stopped in front of the Magical Menagerie and went inside as through drawn there. A strange feeling overcame him—he felt as if he absolutely _needed_ to go into this store and look around. 

He made his way over to an unremarkable looking wrought iron cage that held a beautiful coal-black bird. The bird turned its noble head, fixing him with a piercing gaze from its iridescent golden eye.

"Hello." Harry whispered. 

The bird nodded to him as if to say hello in return.

"You're a beautiful bird."

Again, the bird nodded.

"Hey, Remus?" Harry called. "May I get this bird?"

Remus approached, looking wary. "That's a raven, Harry. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have an owl instead?"

Harry smiled, appraising the raven. "No. This is the one I want." He picked up the cage, carrying it over to the counter. The bird seemed very content with being chosen and made no noise.

The owner looked scared. "Excuse me, sir, but that's a very excitable bird. Perhaps I could interest you in a more agreeable specimen?"

Harry frowned. "It looks perfectly fine to me. I want this one."

The man shrugged. "Whatever you wish. That'll be fifteen Galleons."

Harry paid the man, stroking his new pet through the bars with his fingertip.

As they reemerged into the bright sunlight, Remus asked Harry what he was going to name the raven. 

He thought for a moment, looking fixedly at the bird. "Poe." He said after a moment.

"Poe?" Remus questioned.

"Yes, Poe. You know, the writer? Wrote The Raven?"

"Sorry, Harry? I'm not too caught up with my Muggle literature."

"Oh, well. Edgar Allen Poe was an American writer. He wrote this poem called The Raven, one of my favorites really."

"Oh. Good choice, Harry."

They walked a bit in silence before Remus spoke again. "I'm going to drop you off at The Leaky Cauldron. Get two rooms for us, okay? I'm going to apparate back to Hogwarts and get your trunk so you'll be ready to catch the train tomorrow, okay?"

Harry shrugged. "Sounds fine."

They parted at the entrance to the pub. "I'll see you in a bit, Harry. Just go and talk to Tom, he's a good friend."

"Sure. See you soon."

Remus blinked away and Harry entered the dimly lit tavern. People glanced up at him as he walked by, but made no effort to stop him. For this, Harry was glad. He made his way over to the bar, plopping down on one of the plushy stools. 

"What can I get for you sir?" The wizened barkeep asked him.

"Um, I'm to reserve two rooms, one for me and one for Professor Lupin."

The man smiled a toothy grin. "Oh! You're a friend of Remus's, are you?"

"Um, yes. I'm actually starting at Hogwarts tomorrow, so the rooms will just be for tonight until I catch the train."

"Certainly, Mr.—er—your name was?"

"Oh. My name's Harry. Harry Dursley."

"Certainly, Mr. Dursley. That's quite an interesting accent you've got there. Where are you from?" He asked as he led Harry up a thin staircase.

"I was actually born in Wales, I think. But I lived in Surrey for a bit before my uncle got a new job and we moved to a small island off the coast of New Zealand."

"So you're a Kiwi, are you? T'was a shame how poorly the Kiwis did in the last World Cup, but then again, England was no great contender, either. The Irish, now there's a strong team!"

"World Cup?" Harry asked, confused.

"Oh, yes! The Quidditch World Cup! Was held right here in England, you know. You play any Quidditch, Mr. Dursley. You look like you'd be pretty good on a broom."

"I actually just got a broom a couple of weeks ago. I've never played really, but Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin said I'd be a pretty good seeker, so maybe I'll try out once school starts."

"Seeker, eh? That's a tough position to play, but that's where you get the most glory. I wish you luck, Mr. Dursley. I was a chaser myself when I was at Hogwarts."

"Really? What house?"

"Hufflepuff, class of '56."

"Is Hufflepuff a good house to be in? I know my father was a Gryffindor and my mother was a Ravenclaw, but I really don't know what house I'll be in."

"Any house is good, depending on your character. You seem to be a good sort; I know I wouldn't see you in Slytherin."

"That's the house Voldemort was in, wasn't it?"

Tom paled. "Don't say the name, please. Scares the bejesus out of me!"

Harry blushed. "Sorry. I forgot."

"You forgot?"

"I only found out about all this magic stuff a couple of weeks ago! I never even knew I was magic, 'til then!"

"Well, you'll learn fast what you should and shouldn't do here, and one thing you definitely shouldn't do is say His name! The only one who could say His name without flinching was Albus Dumbledore himself, God rest his soul!"

"Pardon me for asking, but I really don't understand why you shouldn't say His name. He's gone, isn't He?"

"Yes, but there's always a chance something went wrong. We were lucky when little Harry Potter took care of him the first time, and we were lucky when Dumbledore, bless him, got rid of him the second time. You never know what could happen, and I don't like to chance it!"

"I see." Harry was quiet.

"Well, Mr. Dursley, it was good talking to you. Here's your room, Professor Lupin's is the one adjoining it. I'll tell him to go on up when he returns. Oh—and don't be afraid to come down for a butterbeer later, okay? On the house!"

"Thanks, Tom!"

"Not a problem. You're a good kid. Remind me an awful lot of someone I knew a long time ago."

Harry smiled and waved as Tom disappeared down the stairs in the direction they had just come from. 

He fit the key in the lock and pushed the door open, revealing a cozy little room, fitted with an oaken bed that stood on a handmade rag rug.

He threw his books and robes down on the bed, setting Poe's cage on the nearby dresser. "If I let you out, will you promise not to fly away?"

Poe blinked once; looking very affronted that Harry would even suggest such a thing.

Harry pulled the cage open, letting Poe flutter over to his outstretched arm and settle there, looking quite contented. He made his way over to the little desk, pulling out a roll of his new parchment and a quill and began to write.

_Dear Uncle Vernon (and Aunt Petunia, if she cares),_

Hello! It's me, Harry! (If you didn't already know, for who else would send you a letter by raven? By the way, her name is Poe and she's quite obedient.) How are things at the plantation going? It's almost harvest time, I know, and I miss being there, getting up at the crack of dawn to go work the fields. I might have complained a lot, but you know I really loved it.

Hogwarts is very interesting. I'm learning a lot here and it's really incredible the things I can do now. Of course, I actually miss going to regular classes back home, but you'd be surprised at how similar some of the courses are. Potions bears a striking resemblance to Chemistry and the History of Magic classes, save a few goblins, are the same as my World History back at St. Gabriel's. Magical and Muggle history really do parallel each other; it's quite fascinating to make the connections between the various historical events. For example, did you know that there was this dark wizard named Grindelwald wreaking havoc at the same time when Hitler was causing World War II? I wouldn't be surprised if they were working together.

Enough about my classes, though, I got a broom—the best one on the market. It's called the Firebolt and it is simply amazing to fly it. When I come home next, I'll be sure to bring it. You'll have to try it. 

Professor Lupin and I are getting along well, and the Headmistress is nice, too. The only problem is that everywhere I go, I was getting hounded by people who new my name and recognized my scar. I'm using the name "Harry Dursley" and hiding my scar so no one can recognize me. I want to spend this year as normally as possible, particularly in a castle with rotating staircases and an amazingly annoying poltergeist named Peeves.

If you could, by return post, send me some of my books that I left behind, I'd really appreciate it. There's no fiction section here, and I'm finding myself lost without a book to dive into—you know my favorites. 

Please tell Danny I said hello and give Mrs. Chambers a hug for me. I hope they're doing all right without me. Keep me posted on St. Gabe's basketball team and everything. I'll be sure to write again as soon as I can.

Love, 

Harry

Writing the address on the front, Harry rolled up his letter and attached it firmly to Poe's leg. She nipped Harry's finger once before sailing out the window, becoming nothing more than a black speck against the crystal blue sky.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Remus stuck his head around, pushing Harry's trunk into the room. "You had better pack your supplies so we can leave early tomorrow." He said, "But first, how about coming downstairs for some lunch?"

Harry agreed and the two settled down for a delightful meal in front of the briskly burning hearth. 

They spent the evening conversing with Tom about random things, once Remus and Tom getting in a heated debate over which team was better, The Pride of Portree or Puddlemere United.

Harry laughed as he sat back and listened, content to lean everything he could about wizarding culture from this exchange.

Late at night, when the last embers of the fire were dying out, Harry and Remus made there way back upstairs and went their separate ways to bed. 

Harry lay awake, anxiously awaiting the coming dawn and the beginning of his new life as a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

~*~

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Author's Note: Huzzah! Chapter Four is completed! I hope everyone enjoyed it! BIG shout-outs go to everyone who reviewed—I love you all because you make me so happy!

Ron-Hater: I used your suggestion about the accent—thanks!

???: Harry won't be a prefect this year because he's just arriving—poor Ron. No one likes him.

Tough Critic: That's a good idea. I never even thought of making him a dolphin. Thanks!

Huzzah! H/H forever!

Calistal: Don't worry—more will always be coming! :D

Mini-Potter: RAWK! More power to the geeks! I love my Intellectual!Harry! (I hope you do, too!)

H: Thanks for the support—I hope Harry in Ravenclaw works as well as I want it to!

G: Thanks! The H/H relationship will be a long time in coming, and we will appease the other H-ers while we're at it—but don't worry! I'm a die-hard H/H-er and everything will work out at the end!

S. Griffin: Thanks! There are a lot of answers coming up in the next chapter—Harry will meet Ron and Hermione and we'll find a lot of things out about student life at Hogwarts. Keep checking for updates! I'm glad you like it so far!

A-Man: Harry is a very special wizard. Some of his power was demonstrated in this chapter, although more Amazing!Harry is yet to come. :D

Angel: Harry does have a lot of the same personality traits—although he's more outgoing here, not being banished to a cupboard for eleven years helps. :D I hope that you liked this chapter, as well!

Janibo: Don't worry! A new chapter will be coming out (fairly) regularly! Harry isn't evil, so don't worry about that, either.

Nerdvana: Thanks for your review! I hope you liked this chapter, too!

Yoka: Yeah, Minerva will be transforming into Professor McGonagall soon enough. :D The Ron/Harry/Hermione relationship will be quite interesting—you'll find out more next chapter. ;)

Constantine1453: Thanks! I tried to keep Harry realistic...I'm glad you liked it! A favorites list? Me? :D Such great compliments coming from a great writer. (I love Requiem so far!)

Muggle: Thanks! I hope you like this chapter, too!

Jeremiah: I gave Harry more of a temper in this story because I felt that he would be more outgoing in general and more expressive. I hope that it came off all right. Hermione enters next chapter—won't say any more here!

Janelle: The Express in next chapter. I hope I do the scene justice—it seems to be what you're all waiting for!

Inicora: Thanks! Watch for the next chapter—you'll be seeing some familiar faces!

Aurora: Quidditch will be all sorted out (I hope!). You caught me on the Centaurs—I didn't even realize that I did that! Oops! You get today's gold star! :D

Allison: :D I'm glad you liked it. Hermione will be coming soon—and Ron as well. Harry, well, he's just a bundle of secrets, isn't he? 

Baby Bluez: I'm glad you like my Harry and Remus. If you think that Harry's dreamy now, wait 'til next chapter!

Makulit: Yep, Vernon's a pretty decent guy—and we'll be seeing some familiar faces soon! I'm glad you liked the Voldemort-in-the-mirror part. I thought it was creepy, too!

Kat: Thanks for the review! I hope this chapter is to your satisfaction? That's what I live for! :D

Lolo: I'm glad you like it—I hope you liked this chapter as much as I liked writing it!

Tamely Wild: Cho made her appearance here, although she wasn't in much condition to be a heartbreaker, was she? I hoped you liked this chapter!

Linz: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Hermione will be coming soon, don't worry!

Nutmeg: Harry was pretty wild there for a sec—I hope you liked how I calmed him down. He has a temper, and believe me, it'll show up again!

SmileyGirlo3: Having Harry be a Ravenclaw is necessary for some vital plot points later on. The cloak and the map will be appearing shortly—I hope!

Tara: Thanks for your review. I'll reveal that Cho will become a big part of his life—but I can't say any more here!

Bill Weasly: You're a genius, Bill! I used your idea in this chapter with Harry's little running adventure—I hope you liked it!

Kristen: Thanks for your review! Hope you liked this chapter!

Azurestar: I hope you liked this chapter! 

Condor5: Aww! You're making me cry! :D

USMLtifosi: I'm so happy you like my writing! It makes me feel so good. I hope this chapter was good enough. :D

Skeyeta: Thanks, I am feeling better! I hope this chapter was quick enough for you. I'm doing the best I can, but sometimes, real life gets in the way!

Anon: You guessed it—Harry has too much of a conscience to leave things like that. I'll flat out state right here that Harry won't be a Slytherin.

E.C.R. Potter: Thanks! I know the Ravenclaw thing is a little squidgy, but it'll be explained more later. (I absolutely love your writing, as well! This is such a thrill to get a review from you!)

Bunny Lee: The R/H/H interaction is coming soon! Don't worry!

TheRedDragon'sOrder: Thanks! I love the compliments! :D The next chapter should be up in a week or so (I hope!).

MarsIsBrightTonight: I know, I know. Harry's a little hothead, but he did make up with them. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for the compliments; you don't know how much that means to me!

Ryoko: Thanks for your review. NAPPA and I are really glad that you like the story so far. I hope the upcoming H/H/R interaction will be good enough—that's the part everyone seems to be waiting for!

Again, thank you SO much to everyone who reviewed. It really makes all the time spent worthwhile to hear that people are enjoying it. I'm sure that everyone will like the next chapter—Harry'll be catching the train, where he'll run into some familiar faces! Don't forget to leave a review, please! I'd really appreciate it (again!)

Thanks to NAPPA who came up with the plot—again, I hope I am doing it justice!

( **Note From NAPPA:** I'm at this very moment trying hard to build a gold shrine to Lauren. If any one wishes to send some donation, feel free to do it at: imran_webjump@hotmail.com) I assure you… I'll spend every single dime I have, and will have on the shrine. The shrine will be open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. AS FOR DOING JUSTICE: I feel ashamed at my poor attempt, whenever I read a chapter of your work!!) 

--Lauren and NAPPA

****

Disclaimer: This story was based on characters and plot lines developed by J.K. Rowling and in no way, shape, or form do they belong to us.

The title, Don't Fear the Reaper, is an excellent song by the Blue Oyster Cult—that doesn't belong to us, either.


	5. Chapter Five: London Calling

Tangled Fates

A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

By Lauren and NAPPA

  
Chapter Five: London Calling

Harry awoke to a sharp rapping on the door that connected his room to Remus's. He blinked in the bright sunlight that was streaming through his open window. "Yeah?" He mumbled sleepily, sitting up in bed.

"Good morning, Harry!' Remus cried cheerfully as he burst through the door. "Just checking to make sure you were awake! The train leaves in an hour and a half, so get ready!"

"How can you possibly be so happy this early in the morning?" Harry asked, pulling himself out of bed, stretching slightly.

"It's the first day of school, Harry. I'm always excited. Anyway, hurry up and get ready so we can get you to the station. I'll apparate to the school from there."

"All right, all right. I'll be down in a bit."

Remus smiled and exited as Harry stumbled into the tiny bathroom for his shower. Emerging, hair wet and skin pink from his shower, he dressed quickly, throwing on a pair of olive khaki shorts that fell a little past his knees and an off white long sleeved polo shirt. Slipping on a pair of Birkenstocks, he ran down the stairs to meet Remus for breakfast.

After a filling meal of eggs and bacon, Harry and Remus sat in a taxicab, Harry's trunk carefully stowed in the trunk, on their way to King's Cross Station.

When they arrived, Remus helped Harry put his trunk on a trolley and told him just to "run at the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10." Harry didn't really understand this, but smiled anyway and waved as Remus blinked out of existence.

Breathing deeply, Harry wheeled his trolley around and set off down the train platforms, looking for platform 9. As platform 8, the express to Manchester, passed by, Harry felt his heart give a leap; this was it. He was popular back home, and had always found making friends easy, smiling cheekily at all the girls and cracking jokes with the guys—this would be no different. (It had better not be, or the next couple years at Hogwarts could be quite hellish, indeed.)

Standing off to the side of the platform 10 marker, Harry watched carefully as a tall, red-headed boy and a bushy-haired brunette, after looking furtively on both sides, ran swiftly at the barrier, slipping through the wall in a blink of an eye. 

Noticing a willowy girl with the same hair as the boy standing close by, Harry sidled up, parking his trolley beside hers.

"Hello." He said pleasantly, smiling down at her as he ran a hand through his hair, making sure a thick lock fell forward onto his face. "Is this how you get to Hogwarts?"

The girl ran her eyes over in an appraising glance. A slight smile graced her features as she met his eyes. "Yes, it is. I don't recall seeing you before. Are you new? You look too old to be a first year."

Harry laughed lightly. "Yes, it's my first year here, although, I believe Professor McGonagall said I'm to be taking fifth year classes for now."

The girl smiled wider. "Really? I'm in the fifth year, too! My name's Ginny Weasley, what's yours?"

"Harry Dursley."

Just then, a plump woman with dusty auburn hair bustled up to where Harry and Ginny were standing. "Ginny Weasley! What do you think you are doing? The train leaves in ten minutes and you are standing out here—oh! I didn't realize you were speaking with someone!" She smiled warmly, shooting a direct Look at her daughter, making Ginny turn crimson. "And just who _is _your charming new friend?"

Harry smiled brightly, holding out a hand. "My name is Harry Dursley, ma'am, pleased to make your acquaintance. Ginny was just telling me how to get onto the platform. It's my first year at Hogwarts."

Mrs. Weasley shook Harry's hand enthusiastically, looking at him with an appraising eye. "It's wonderful to meet you, Harry dear. You have such a lovely accent! Where are you from? I hope you don't mind my asking, but you do look rather old to be a first year."

"Well, I was born here in the UK, but my family moved to New Zealand when I was about three. This is my first year at Hogwarts, although I'm to be at a fifth year level at first. Professor McGonagall mentioned something about owls and possibly going to sixth year then."

Mrs. Weasley beamed. "You're taking your O.W.L.s early? You must be quite the promising student then! My youngest son, Ron, is in his sixth year. Maybe you'll be in some of his classes."

"Maybe." Harry grinned. "Well, I better get going. I need to find a seat on the train. It was very nice to meet you, Mrs. Weasley. Ginny, maybe I'll see you around school?"

Ginny nodded as her mother cried, "Good bye, dear!"

As Harry pushed through the barrier, the last thing he heard was Mrs. Weasley remarking loudly how that was _just _the sort of boy she should be going after—and ever so handsome too!

Chuckling inwardly, Harry moved through the throng of people pushing trunks just like his own. He moved along the train, searching for a vacancy and not really looking where he was going. With a jolt, the corner of his trunk banged hard into a trolley parked in front of a softly kissing couple, in fact, the same two he'd seen dashing towards the barrier only minutes before, sending their trunks crashing to the floor.

Groaning loudly, Harry moved to pick them up. "Oh, man, I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going and—"

A loud angry voice cut him off. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

Harry stood abruptly, drawing himself to his full height. He stood a little taller than the boy and he used this, looking down slightly at his adversary. "I said I was sorry. It was an accident. I didn't mean to hit your trunk."

"Listen buddy, you look like you're new here so I'll let you slide this time, okay? As long as you don't want any trouble, I'd suggest keeping to yourself for a bit." The boy smirked as he looked hard at Harry. The girl on his arm looked down, almost as if she were embarrassed to have her boyfriend act in such a manner.

Harry met the boy's smug stare with a steely look of his own. Laughing, he remarked, "Oh, yes. I'll be sure to keep that in mind." He rolled his eyes. "We certainly think highly of ourselves, don't we?" He finished in a small whisper, reorganizing his trunk.

The boy shook off his girlfriend, advancing towards Harry menacingly. "What did you say?"

"Oh, get over yourself! I said I was sorry and let's just leave it at that."

The boy's clear blue eyes narrowed to a steely gray. "I don't think you know who you're talking to."

Harry leaned against the wall, putting a hand in his pocket, knowing that he was seriously infuriating this kid with his cavalier attitude. He loved it. Back home, Harry, although never a bully, had always been the ringleader of his group of friends—and he was definitely prepared to "rise through the ranks" here. "I don't think you know who you're dealing with, either."

The girl placed a hand on the boy's arm. "Ron!" she said loudly. "Come on."

"Hold on, Hermione!" he thundered. "I'm not finished welcoming the new kid."

Harry turned to the girl. "Hello, Hermione. It's nice to meet you. I'm Harry." He held out his hand, which Hermione awkwardly took. "Hi, Harry." She said quickly.

"Ron?" he turned to the boy, thinking hard. "Where have I heard that name lately?"

"_What?_"

Harry remembered, matching the name with the familiar hair. "Oh! You're Ginny's older brother, aren't you? Your mother mentioned you when I saw them just before."

"My mother? What are you doing talking to my mother?"

"Ginny was telling me how to get onto the train and your mother came to talk with us."

"You better stay away from Ginny if you know what's good for you."

"Well, I don't know if I can stick to that, Mr. Weasley. Your sister is quite the lovely young woman. But, I must be off. Hermione, dear, it was lovely to meet you. Ron, have a wonderful day. I'll be sure to see you later."

He turned on his heel and continued down the train, laughing as he heard Ron start after him and Hermione yelling sharply for him to "turn around and leave Harry alone."

Harry stopped in front of an empty-looking compartment. Pushing the door open, he began wheeling his trunk inside. Suddenly, a pretty girl with black hair and a surprisingly familiar face sat up quickly. Harry jumped.

"I'm sorry! I didn't realize this compartment was taken—"

"It's all right, Harry. You can sit with me if you'd like."

"Thanks." Harry beamed. "You're Cho, aren't you?"

She smiled weakly. "You remembered."

"Of course. It's not often I forget a pretty face."

Cho blushed as Harry sat down across from her. "I really want to thank you for being patient with me that day. Not many guys would have just let me cry like that."

Harry waved a hand. "Really, it was no trouble."

They sat in silence for a while as the train began to move.

"So..." They both said together. Harry burst out laughing, as did Cho.

"Why don't you tell me about yourself, Harry? I think that we could be great friends, and usually friends get acquainted with each other."

Harry smiled awkwardly. This was the part he was kind of worried about—his past. "Well, there's really not too much to tell. From all accounts, I was born in a little town in Wales, although my parents were both British. We all lived in Surrey for a bit, then when I was about three we moved to New Zealand to start up a sugarcane plantation."

"Pardon me for asking, but did you say your parents _were_ British?"

"Um, yeah. They died in a car crash when I was little. I live with my aunt and uncle now. They're Muggles, and they didn't know that my parents have had me down for Hogwarts since I was little. I've been going to a Muggle prep school all this time. Professor Lupin shows up this summer saying all this stuff about magic and how I should have been at school for four years already, and that's why I'm just coming now."

"I'm sorry about your parents, Harry."

"It's all right. I don't remember them anyway, and my uncle and I get on well."

"Well, that's good. What was it like being in a Muggle school, then? I've never been."

"I don't know. It's just normal, I guess. We took classes and played sports, although, half the time I spent at University taking these special lessons, so I'm really not one to say much about the benefits of a regular education."

"Why were you at the university?"

"It was better for me there. I just always caught on to school quickly and was always more advanced than the rest of my classmates. I was taking physics, calculus, literature, and a couple languages on a university level. Always felt kind of weird about that, but my friends were cool with it, so it was okay."

"Wow. You must be really smart then."

"I don't know. I just like to learn things. I was one of those kids who always liked to go to school. Bit of an idiot, really. But I was captain of the basketball team, all conference in track, and shortstop on the baseball team, so don't go thinking I'm just a bookworm!"

Cho laughed. "You're an athlete, too?"

Harry nodded. "I'll miss not being able to play, but Professor Lupin said something about Quidditch teams. I'd actually like to try out for one of those. Do you play, Cho?"

Cho sobered. "I did, but not anymore."

Harry sensed her darkened mood. Carefully, he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Cho looked pained. "I was injured last year. I'll get better, but it'll be years before I'm back on a broomstick."

"What happened? Forgive me if I'm pressing too hard."

"No, it's all right. This is the first time I've ever talked about this, you know? It's difficult." She wiped at her eyes. "It's just that--when Cedric ran out of the school, I saw him. I chased after him, but when I was running, a spell hit me; I fell down a hill and damaged my back. I just can't fly anymore, not until all the scar tissue heals, which could take years according to Madame Pomfrey."

Harry let out a low whistle. "I'm really sorry, Cho. I would have liked to see you fly."

She smiled tearfully. "I was a seeker. I loved it, too. More than I've ever really loved anything before. The team is letting me stay on as honorary coach, though, so I'll still be involved."

"What house are you in, anyway?"

"Ravenclaw."

"That's the house my mum was in. My dad was a Gryffindor, though."

"Gryffindor's a good house, although some of them are just downright stuck-up sometimes. Oh, how I would have _loved_ to beat the pants off of that smug Ron Weasley this year!"

"What is the matter with him, anyway? I ran into him in the hallway before and he nearly took my head off!"

"He was an all right kid, but he's got the biggest ego in the world! He made the Gryffindor team and it immediately went to his head. Was a decent chaser, but somehow, he got it into his head that he'd be a great seeker, like his brother, Charlie. He _can_ fly well, I'm not saying that, but he doesn't have the speed or agility to be a seeker. To top it off, during the war, his father rose quickly though the Ministry and is tipped to be the next Minister of Magic. Weasley thinks he's God's gift to Earth and it shows. It's a shame, really. His family truly is the nicest you'll ever meet. My mother and Mrs. Weasley were roommates at Hogwarts, so I spent a lot of time with the Weasley crowd when I was growing up. Ron was always a little off, though. Always seemed like he had something to prove to everyone."

"Yeah, I met Ginny and Mrs. Weasley and they were perfectly nice to me."

"Oh, they are! Fred and George, too! They're twins, graduated last year, both two of my best friends—and two of the funniest people I've ever met. Ginny's all right, too. Always really good to talk to. It's just Ron. Like I said, it's like he has something to prove and is going about it all wrong. He's the leader of this group of Gryffindor boys, always pulling stuff on people. Sometimes they go too far, though. Last year, they put blue dye in all the tea, so everyone who drank it had blue teeth for a week. Turns out that this one girl, Hermione Granger, was allergic to something in the dye and almost died. They got in so much trouble for that. The strange thing is that now Ron and Hermione are dating. Would never have seen that coming, not after that prank."

"Ugh. I've had enough of Ron Weasley for one day; let's talk about something else. I told you all about me, now you tell me about you."

Cho began to speak, her eyes lighting up, telling of summers spent in Hong Kong at her grandfather's and her favorite things. They talked for hours, really connecting. Harry knew he had found a life-long friend in Cho Chang and was glad for it.

The lady selling magical sweets had been by twice and the seats were littered with chocolate frog wrappers and the worst specimens of a bag of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans. The door to their compartment swung open then, and a group of girls stood, gaping in the doorway, looking on as Harry and Cho were both clutching their sides, absolutely howling at Harry's description of what life as like once the overly-friendly Serena Feliciano had set her sights on you. It was minutes before they regained their composure and noticed they had company.

Cho sat up, hastily wiping her eyes, still shaking with mirth. "Oh—hey, everyone. This is Harry." She said, pointing at Harry, who still hadn't faced the gaggle of teenaged girls standing at the entrance to his compartment, currently being curled up on the seat, face down. 

At Cho's words, Harry sprung around, sitting up quickly, smoothing out his shirt. "Hello." He said pleasantly, cracking a slight half-smile that he knew was a guaranteed winner.

Cho's friends were silent, staring, some open-mouthed, at Harry. A girl with long strawberry blonde hair shot Cho a look. "We, uh, came to see how you were doing, but it appears that you're adjusting quite well. We'll be, uh, leaving now." She nodded to her friends and they began to exit, before Harry stopped them.

"You don't have to leave—stay and talk with Cho and me for a bit. She was just going to tell me what life's like at Hogwarts so I don't make too big of a prat of myself once school starts. I'd love to hear your opinions, too." He smiled again, and the girls smiled back, smitten.

The strawberry-blonde girl spoke again. "All right then." She sat down next to Harry, smiling smugly at her friends who scattered about the compartment.

"Cho?" Harry asked. "Would you care to introduce me to these lovely ladies?"

Cho fought back a grin. "Certainly. This one here is Melissa." She said, pointing to the strawberry-blonde sitting next to Harry. "And this is Brittany, Phoebe, Janice, Katie, and Padma. Padma's got a twin sister in Gryffindor, so don't get confused. Everyone, this is Harry Dursley. He's just moved here from New Zealand."

"It's nice to meet you all." Harry said, looking around the compartment. "Are you all Ravenclaws, like Cho?"

The girl Cho had called Phoebe spoke up. "Yes, we are. Cho, Melissa, Katie and I are all seventh years, but Britt, Katie, and Padma are all in their sixth. What about you?"

"I think I'm a fifth year right now, although, Professor McGonagall said that after I take my O.W.L.s, I'll probably be moving up to sixth year."

"McGonagall's letting you take the O.W.L.s early? Why?" Padma interjected.

"Well, I think it's because that if I had been at Hogwarts all this time, I would be in my sixth year, but since I wasn't, I'm a little behind and need to catch up a bit before getting to where I should be."

"That's weird. What school were you at in New Zealand? I know there's at least two down there."

"Oh, I didn't go to any magic school. I didn't even know I was magic until Professor Lupin came and told me last month!"

The girls gaped at him. "Then how did you get up to fifth year level already?" Katie asked. "If you're Muggleborn, then you couldn't know any of the spells or anything yet!"

Harry laughed slightly. "I've been at Hogwarts for a month already. Professors Lupin, Snape, and Gudgeon have been tutoring me privately so I won't be too far behind. I'm not Muggleborn, either. My mum and dad were magic, but they died when I was little, so I went to live with my aunt and uncle."

"Wow. You had private lessons with Professor Snape? What was that like? He's brilliant!" Brittany asked.

Harry scowled. "Are you crazy? It was horrible. I have never met anyone with a more horrible disposition than Professor Snape."

The girls looked taken aback. "Are you serious? Professor Snape's always perfectly nice to everyone! Ever since he's got the Dark Arts post, that is." Cho said.

"Not to me. All he did was pick on everything I did."

"That's odd."

The compartment was quiet for a bit. Harry looked around, noticing Melissa staring at him. Blushing as he caught her eye, she spoke. "What was your name again? You look very familiar."

Harry paled. "Um, it's Harry Dursley." He said quickly, stressing the "Dursley".

Melissa looked at him strangely. "I don't recognize your name, but honestly, something is so familiar about you!"

The rest of the girls stared at Harry intensely. Harry felt himself begin to fidget under their gazes. 

Hastily, he changed the subject. "Well, how about someone tells me how I'll get sorted then?"

And they were off, chattering madly about hats and changing staircases and Peeves and Hogsmeade. Time flew by quickly, and soon enough, the conductors voice came over the train, warning everyone that they'd be at school in five minutes time.

Harry began to get nervous as he left the compartment so they girls could change into their uniforms, being the first one off the train as it came to a stop at Hogsmeade Station. Seeing Hagrid's bulking figure, Harry hurried over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. "Hey, Hagrid!"

Hagrid spun around, startled, before realizing who his assailant was. "Harry! What're yeh doin' off the train, an' not even dressed yet!"

Harry looked down, only then realizing that he was still dressed in his shorts and polo shirt. "Uh, oh. I forgot to change! Hagrid, can I change on the train quick enough?"

"I dunno, Harry. Yeh could try, but I've gotta get these firs' years up ta the castle ta be sorted. Yeh know how to get there. Just come on up when yeh're done. I'll tell Professor Lupin yeh'll be a little late."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Hagrid. I'll be right there."

He turned away from Hagrid, dashing through the crowds of people clustering on the platform and hurtling back onto the train. He flew through the hallway, searching for the compartment that he had shared with the Ravenclaws. Finally recognizing his trunk, he ran in and threw up the top, ripping off the packaging that encased his robes. 

Hurriedly, he changed, adjusting his plain black tie and fastening his robes as he rushed back to the platform; it was deserted. 

He knew it was a good ten minute walk from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, and so, thinking madly about how to get there quicker, Harry got a brilliant idea: McGonagall had said that he was a natural animagus—and what better a time to use his powers than the present?

Concentrating hard, he formed a picture of a bird in his head. After a moment, he felt a prickle run through his whole body, tracing his spine and liquefying his bones. Without warning, he pitched forward, arms and legs shrinking and becoming feathered as he transformed into a magnificent bird, red and gold in color, and feeling like the embodiment of magic itself.

He flapped his newly formed wings, pushing himself off the ground. His flight was easy, his wings sculpting and molding the air to propel him faster and faster towards the school, gleaming like a diamond set atop the cliffs.

He approached the grounds and set down, hastily willing himself to resort to his natural form. An anomalous tickle ran over his skin as his plumage glimmered and faded, becoming normal, smooth flesh. Not even stopping to congratulate himself on the feat he'd just accomplished, he picked himself up from the ground, and ran at full speed towards the castle. As he passed the window, he could see five or six first years still standing in line, watching their new classmates being sorted. 

He threw open the large oak door and bolted inside. As his footfalls clattered upon the smooth stone floors, he could hear Professor Lupin's voice, magically enhanced, echoing out from the hall. "We are delighted to have a new student come to us, all the way from New Zealand. I have been informed that he will be a little late, and so while we wait, our Headmistress would like to say a few words."

There was thunderous applause as McGonagall's voice began to resonate over the school. Harry ran faster, determined to reach the hall.

He flung the doors open, running inside, stopping abruptly as he realized that McGonagall had cut off her speech, and her eyes, along with every other pair in the hall, was trained on him.

Breathing heavily, he walked quickly up to the front of the hall, trying to ignore the whispers that followed him. "Sorry about that, Professor." He said meekly, catching McGonagall's thunderous gaze.

Professor Lupin then spoke, breaking the tension. "Well, since he's here now, I'd guess he'd like to be sorted. Harry, if you please." He motioned to a tiny stool with a decrepit looking hat set upon it. He walked steadfastly towards the hat, catching sight of Cho at the Ravenclaw table who gave him a subtle thumbs-up, and trying to ignore the snickers that were emitting from Ron Weasley's end of the Gryffindor table.

He plucked the hat off the stool and sat down, placing it on his head. The brim fell over his eyes, obscuring his vision, and the last thing he saw was curious stares from all over the hall.

"Well, well, well! What do we have here?" A small voice echoed in his ear.

Harry started, obviously shocked that he hat was speaking to him. "Um, my name's Harry Dursley." He said quietly.

"Do you lie to everyone, or is it just me?" the hat asked. "I know who you are, Harry Potter. I've been waiting for you for a long time."

"Um." Harry said eloquently.

"Of course. I've been wondering where to put you for quite sometime now. Your blood screams Gryffindor, or course, but I have a feeling that that's not the place for you right now. I can sense something in you; something that wishes to control, but cannot. You most definitely are not Slytherin material."

"What do you mean there's something inside me?" Harry asked indignantly.

"I sense something, another presence within you. I do not wish to nurture it. Now, then, let me think. You are not a Hufflepuff, too outspoken for that, most definitely. Ravenclaw, perhaps. You're quite intelligent, you know. Amazing power, as well. Let me ask you something, Mr. Potter, where would _you _like to go?"

Harry laughed aloud, "You're asking me? I thought this was _your_ job!"

The hat sounded affronted. "It's just a simple question, Mr. Potter. There is no one quite like you, I must say. You're too smart for your own good, and I can see more power in you that I've ever seen before. You have the power to be great, there's no doubt about that. But we must find the perfect place for you."

"The blood of Gryffindor runs in your veins, as does the blood of the great Merlin, himself. You are definitely a child of Avalon, Mr. Potter. You are fiercely independent, however, you do not want to be known for _what_ you are, but rather, _who_ you are. It's a very admirable thing."

"So where should I go?"

"If I were to disregard what your blood tells me, I would say Ravenclaw. You are sharp-witted and kind. You would fit in well there. In Gryffindor, you might find some problems—you don't take kindly to being second best, and you'd have to fight a bit, but you'd be all right in the end. You're a bred Gryffindor, but right now, it does not seem like the best choice for you."

"Then put me in Ravenclaw. I don't mind."

"Ravenclaw? There is some Ravenclaw blood in you, as well. Did you know that? Yes, I do think that RAVENCLAW would suit you nicely. Now, go, Mr. Potter. We all expect a lot from you."

Harry took the hat off and scanned the crowd. The Ravenclaw table was standing and cheering madly, while the others clapped politely. Harry hurried over, finding a seat next to Cho. "I guess we're housemates, now!" He said happily to her.

"I'm so glad, Harry! I know you'll love it in Ravenclaw. It's a great house. I have to ask you though, what was the hat talking to you about? You were up there for a good five minutes!"

"Just didn't know where to put me that's all."

"Well, I'm glad you're with me. We're the best house, really. Always have the best marks. Now, you can sit with me at the Quidditch matches!"

"Sure." Harry looked around, noting that there were a lot of eyes of the female persuasion were trained on him still. "Cho," he whispered. "Why are all these girls staring at me still?"

Cho laughed. "You're the new kid, and quite dishy, I might add, not that you didn't already know that from the way you acted on the train. Be prepared. It's open season on you."

"Oh, really?" Harry laughed.

"Yes, really! You're a mystery to everyone here, and when they all hear your charming accent, they'll all fall harder. Oh, come off it! You know you're good-looking!"

"That may be, but I just wanted to hear you say it." He smiled sweetly at her.

"Oh, is that your game, Dursley?" Her eyes narrowed.

"You better watch out, Cho. I win every time."

The two glared at each other for a second before bursting out in great peals of laughter, drawing some jealous glances Cho Chang's way. They fell silent as McGonagall began to speak again.

"Well, now that everyone's been sorted," she glanced at Harry, who blushed, "let the feat begin!"

Platters full of scrumptious looking delicacies appeared on the tables, sending a general cheer up from each of the houses. Harry loaded up his plate with a large jacket potato and a thick slice of roast beef, drowned in gravy. The Hall was bustling with conversation as everyone settled down for the beginning of a great year.

After all the food had been eaten and plates cleared, Professor McGonagall stood once again, clearing her throat. "Welcome back to a wonderful year at Hogwarts! As we all know, this is my first year as Headmistress, due to the tragic loss of our beloved headmaster, Albus Dumbledore." The hall was deathly quiet and sadness was etched on the students' faces as they remembered their headmaster. "I would like to ask you all to join me in a moment of silence for all of the gallant souls who gave their lives in the defeat of the Dark Lord." Tears ran freely now, especially amongst the Hufflepuffs, who thought of brave Cedric Diggory who risked everything. Cho had buried her head in her hands, sobbing quietly. 

Harry was overcome with an immense feeling of grief—all of these people, lives changed forever by one twisted and evil man. His own parents came to mind as a solitary tear traced his cheek. He knew it wasn't his fault, but he couldn't help but think that if he had been here, perhaps Cedric never would have died. Perhaps Dumbledore wouldn't have had to sacrifice himself. He shook his head; it was no good trying to change the past—but he would do all he could to make sure that no one would ever cry over one of Voldemort's victims again.

It was a very somber crowd that listened as McGonagall addressed the rules and regulations for the upcoming school year. Everyone gave a half-hearted laugh as the ghosts flew in, everyone of them muttering about something Peeves had done to the kitchens. Finally, they were dismissed. It was late, and time for bed.

Harry followed Cho through the school, making sure to memorize the path they took. She stopped in front of a large navy blue tapestry, embroidered with gold. "This is how we get into our common room, Harry. It looks just like a regular tapestry, but it's only pretending. Britt told me the password; she's a prefect. Dittany."

The tapestry lifted up, revealing a short flight of stairs covered in a plushy blue carpet. Cho led the way up the stairs and into a large circular room, fully decked out in comfortable looking blue couches and armchairs, situated around a freestanding hearth in the middle of the room. It was a very cozy looking room, with the fire spreading warmth and light to all sides of the space.

Cho pointed up a staircase that led off the common room. "Boys' dorms are up that way. Your trunk should be up there already, so don't worry about that."

Harry turned to look at her. "Cho, are you all right? You seem...different."

She crumpled. "I can't stop thinking about Cedric."

Harry put his hands on her shoulders, looking her straight in the eye. "Listen to me: it is _not _your fault. You cannot keep blaming yourself. I know it's hard, but you have to remember that you cannot change the past, only the future. Believe me, if I could, I'd be the first one to go back and fix things, but I can't, and you can't either!"

"I know that, Harry! But it's hard not to think that I could have done something and didn't! Don't you talk to me about fixing things, Harry Dursley! You have no idea what I've been through this past year and—" she broke off, falling into Harry's arms, crying her heart out. Harry held her as he did before, just letting her cry.

"I know, I know. It's okay." He soothed, as heart-breaking sobs wracked her thin body.

And they sat that way in front of the dying fire, deep into the night, watching the burnt orange glow reflect off falling teardrops, and thinking of the future.

~*~

****

Author's Note: Well, that was chapter five—not my best work, but all right for the time being. I hope it was acceptable—Ron and Hermione made their (albeit brief) appearances, and we're becoming fast friends with the lovely Cho Chang. Chapter six _will_ be coming soon—expect lessons, some more run-ins of the Weasley persuasion, and the return of Poe, who most people don't like, from New Zealand.

About Poe the raven—I'm sorry to disappoint you all with the absence of Hedwig—I must say, Poe is semi-vital to what happens soon, so she is necessary for the time being.

All I can say here is that I hope everyone is enjoying the story as much as I like writing it. Please keep reviewing; it really cheers me up. :D

If anyone wants to drop me a private line about the story (or anything in particular), e-mail me at sgtpepper43@yahoo.com. We'll have a lovely chat.

Now, my thanks section for the fab reviewers who let me know how I'm doing!

Angali: Thanks for your review! I'm glad you like it!

Mini-Potter: Well, Harry already is something of an animagi—it's kind of hard to explain, but trust me, the reason will be disclosed (in detail) shortly! 

Aurora: You have to let me know if I make any more mistakes—okay? I'm counting on you! :D Oh, and being an obsessive nitpicker is cool! ^_^

Anon: Pretty good! Poe does sort of reflect Harry's intelligence—I hope you like her. I think she's kind of cool!

UMSLtifosi: Yea! I am _so _happy you like it! You have no idea what a huge confidence booster things like that are! I'm glad you liked the leopard part—I was feeling all mystical and bizarre when I wrote it—glad it came out all right.

Nibowin Black: Aw! Thanks, dear! I'm sorry this took a bit too long to come out—I hope you liked it, though!

Janelle: You are FAB! I hope you like Ron and Hermione...they're a little undeveloped as of now, but more will be coming soon. 

Leogrl: Well, he's at school now. Hermione didn't say much, but trust me, she'll be coming into play _majorly_ soon. (The good ship H/H will never sink!)

Anna: I know, I know! I'm sorry! Poe is here for a reason, though. :D

Skeyeta: It's so cool that you like my characters—Harry, I think, is a very interesting character to expand upon—I'm just testing out some of my theories here. :D

Ron-Hater: Ron, I am happy to tell you, is _not _a prefect! (Nice Gucci, by the way.) He is, however, Quidditch Captain. RAWK! I love you—I'm not too fond of ol' Weasley myself!

Bon: You guessed it—Cho will become a very important part of Harry's life. Right now, she needs a lot of emotional support—she's trying to hide how much she's hurting inside, but Harry will make it all better! No mush as of yet—and not for a while. I'm not too good at writing those types of scenes!

Tiger's Eye: Ah, Ron. Yes, he will be a little hard to take, but Hermione likes him, so there must be something good about him, right? Hmm... Oh! And Harry is totally incognito for now—more on that later!

Anon: I'm glad you liked it—here's to hoping this one was okay as well!

Crydwyn: Ah, Catcher in the Rye is my personal favorite (along with Gone With the Wind) and I didn't think a fifteen-year-old boy would like the tragic romance of Rhett and Scarlett too much. I wasn't saying that he couldn't _live_ without it—it's just something he likes to have around. :D Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter!

Lolo: I hope this chapter was enjoyable—be sure to tell me if you liked it!

Linz: The Saga of Poe continues! I can't really reveal too much about Poe right now, but I swear she has a purpose!

Jenny: Thanks, dear! I hope you liked this chapter!

SmileyGirlo3: Harry and Cho, right now, are just friends—what happens next is undecided! :D

E.C.R. Potter: I am glad that you are sticking around, dear. Hedwig...hmm... And Ravenclaw does have a purpose! (p.s. I love your fics!)

Yoka: I love Harry's accent, too! :D _Don't Fear the Reaper_ is a song by Blue Oyster Cult—and I thought it was kind of appropriate considering the memorial service—and I can never pick titles!

Jeremiah: Yes, H and H will be butting heads consistently—and not just academically. That's a good suggestion! Hermione would know a lot about Muggle lit and everything—I just might use that!

White Lady: It's so awesome that you like this! I love you!

Ricardo: Thanks! Glad you like Powerful!Harry. (I like him, too!) More of those to come!

A-Man: Yes, it will be interesting when Harry is revealed! :D I can't wait to write that scene, myself!

MarsIsBrightTonight:Agh! Comparisons to J.K.! Am not worthy! (I'm glad you like my Hagrid!) I know, I do have a tendency to shove people aside, but I will work on that! Snape is a particularly hard character to write—and more of his personality will be coming out later. I hope I do it justice. I'm glad you like Poe—and she will be able to find her way back—just another intricacy of the magical world! :D

Tay: I'm glad you like Poe; not too many people seem to! I thought she was cool! :D

BabyBluez: If you thought Harry was dreamy before, you should have seen how I was picturing him during this chapter. (I want one!)

Angel: I'm glad you liked that scene! I tried to make it cool, it's cool that it worked! "Huzzah" is just a cry of joy, sort of like "Hurray!" or something. I think it's special! (Huzzah!)

Tara: Snape will be increasingly cruel throughout the next chapters—the question on everybody's mind is why. :D I hope you liked the sorting hat!

Hermione Megami Potter: Yea! Am so glad that you're diggin' it! :D

Thanks again to all who reviewed! I think you're all the best, because, let's face it, you ARE!

--Lauren and NAPPA

****

Disclaimer: This story was based on characters and plot lines developed by J.K. Rowling and in no way, shape, or form do they belong to us.

The title, "London Calling" is a wicked cool song by The Clash and does not belong to me, either! :D

__


	6. Chapter Six: Free as a Bird

Tangled Fates

A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

By Lauren and NAPPA

Chapter Six: Free as a Bird

Pale early morning sunlight filtered through the heavy navy draperies that covered the wide windows of the Ravenclaw common room. Harry squinted as the light him, illuminating the lines of his face. He sat up groggily, feeling as if there was an ice pick being driven into the backs of his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose; sitting with his eyes closed and ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair. A soft sigh came from beside him and he spun, almost falling off the couch as he caught sight of Cho Chang, curled up beside him, sleeping deeply despite the tearstains still marring her cheeks.

The events of the past night came rushing back to him—Cho breaking down in his arms, crying until they both fell asleep. Harry peered though sleepy eyes at the giant sundial that hung on the far wall; it read four-thirty. He groaned, learning over to gently rouse Cho. She sighed as she opened her eyes, grasping a sense of her surroundings.

"Wha—what time is it?" She asked through a yawn.

"Four-thirty. We had better get to our dorms."

"Yeah, you're right." She turned, walking towards the staircase that led to the girls' dormitories. "And, Harry? Thanks again." She smiled weakly and disappeared up the staircase.

Harry smiled in return, but as soon as she left, his smile faded quickly. His head was swimming and dots were dancing in front of his eyes. He sank back on the couch, rubbing his temples fitfully. There was a sharp pain lancing through his forehead, centering around his now-invisible scar. Breathing deeply, he lay back on the sofa, closing his eyes, trying to escape from the pain.

Visions danced across his subconscious. 

A now-familiar voice, whispering... "_Well, now, you are the interesting one, aren't you? Tom Riddle, hmm? Ancient blood flows through your veins; very powerful, too. You could be great you know? It's all here in your head."_ Another voice, vaguely childlike, sounding absolutely thrilled. "_I could? How?"_

_"Slytherin...Slytherin...Slytherin..."_

"You could be great you know. It's all here in your head."

"Slytherin!"

The world shifted. A tiny cottage—a wooden door—screams—_"Avada Kedavra!"—_green light--pain beyond pain—a baby's cries—

"_Please! Have mercy! Have mercy!"_

"Slytherin—"

"Not Harry, not Harry, please!"

'You could be great you know, it's all here in your head."

"...take Harry and go! Run! It's him! I'll hold him off!"

Green light, so sinister, and yet, so simple.

_"I am Lord Voldemort."_

Harry jumped up, tears falling steadily from his eyes and mixing with the tiny droplets of crimson blood falling from his forehead, creating a pale pink ribbon that rippled over his neck.

His hands clasped tightly to his forehead, he sank down on the floor, trying desperately to block out the throbbing emitting from his forehead. Why was this happening to him? He hadn't had another "vision" since that first night, and frankly, it was beginning to get scary.

He could feel the outline of the familiar scar on his forehead, sending the smooth skin on either side into sharp relief. He pulled his hand away, staring blankly at the crimson smears on his hand, a reminder of his inescapable past. 

Harry stumbled up the staircase, fumbling into the small bathroom that adjoined his dormitory. He found his way over to the tap and let the icy cool jet wash over his hands, rinsing away the wet blood. Cupping his hands, he splashed the cold water over his face, feeling the sting as it trickled over the tender area on his brow.

He gazed into the overhanging mirror, feeling a distinct feeling of déjà vu as his eyes scoured his reflection—his extremely pale countenance, his green eyes, misted over with tears and worry, and his scar—puffy and red, slowly weeping blood. Pulling out his wand, he murmured a quiet, "_ferula!"_ sending crisp, white bandages out from the wand's tip and arranging them carefully on his head.

Sighing with fatigue and fright, he crept into his new dormitory, finding the unused bed, and settling down, vowing to find Remus first thing the next morning and sort this out.

~*~

Harry awoke the next morning with a face full of navy blue pillowcase. His hands immediately flew up to peel off his bandages and inspect his scar. His forehead was once again smooth, and for this Harry was relieved. He was definitely not in the mood to explain everything today.

He could hear the scurry of moving feet outside his closed draperies. Carefully stowing his bloodstained bandages under his pillow, he flung the curtains aside.

Everything stopped. Harry smiled widely, getting up from his bed, still dressed in his uniform from the night before. "Hello." He said cheerfully. 

The boy in the bed next to him grinned back. "Hullo. You're that new boy that got sorted last night. Harry, wasn't it?"

"Yep. I'm Harry Dursley."

"Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Will Jones, and these two are Mike Stone and Joe Brooks." He said, gesturing to the two other boys who were inhabiting the dorm as well.

"Hi." Harry smiled awkwardly at his new roommates before bursting out laughing. "I feel like a right bloody wanker just standing here. I've got to see Professor Lupin quick, but I'll see you guys at breakfast, okay? We'll be seeing a lot of each other, so we had better get well acquainted early."

"Why d'you have to see Professor Lupin, Harry?" Will asked, immediately feeling comfortable with Harry's easy-going manner.

"Oh, just something about class. I'm rather in the dark about all this magic stuff still. Can one of you tell Cho that I'll be a bit late?"

"Cho? Cho Chang?" Joe gasped.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, that's her. I told her I'd meet her outside the Great Hall, but I can't, and well, can't leave a lady waiting."

"You're seriously friends with Cho Chang?" Mike asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. Why?" Harry questioned as he pulled fresh robes out of his trunk.

"Cho hasn't really talked to _anyone_ since..." He trailed off.

Harry sobered. "Oh, right."

"She can't even fly anymore. They told us all at the end of last year to practice our flying because we need a new seeker."

"Are any of you trying out?" Harry asked.

"I might." Will said slowly. "I kind of wanted to be a chaser, but any position would be good."

"I was actually thinking of trying out, too."

"Really? What kind of broom do you have?" Joe asked.

"Firebolt."

"No way!" Will cried. "Are you serious? Can I see it?"

Harry laughed. "Sure." He said, reopening his trunk and pulling out his prized broomstick.

The three other boys' jaws dropped in amazement. 

"Wow..." Joe breathed. "I've never seen one up close before!"

"Here," Harry said. "You can hold it if you want."

Joe looked at him, eyes wide. "Are you serious?"

Harry thrust the broom out again. "Of course!"

Joe took the broom, his eyes reflecting the shining golden finish. "It's amazing. You know the Irish international side's ordered a full set of these for the World Cup next year?"

"What's this World Cup?" Harry asked.

The guys stared. "Only the most incredible Quidditch tournament ever!" Will cried. "It hasn't been played for a couple years because of the war and everything, but next summer, it's being held in England! My dad's gonna get me tickets!"

"Sounds fun. Does England have a very strong side?"

"Eh, England's okay, but Ireland! They're so good! Bulgaria is pretty tough, too! Viktor Krum, their seeker, is only the best flyer ever!"

"I've never actually seen a Quidditch match." Harry remarked thoughtfully.

"What?" Mike cried. "It's only the best game in the world!"

"I bet it is, but I really only found out I was magic last month."

"Are you kidding? Where were you all this time?" Will asked.

"In New Zealand." 

"No, really." Will said sarcastically. "How could you not know you were a wizard?"

"Long story. Most of it involving Professor Dumbledore and my aunt and uncle."

"Sounds fascinating." Joe remarked.

"Oh, you have no idea." Harry replied, hiding a grin.

"Well, you just wait until Quidditch tryouts. I'm gonna play for England one day!" Will said jubilantly.

"Now that I think of it, Professor Lupin said something once about my father playing for England." Harry said thoughtfully. "Didn't really understand what he meant, though."

"Your dad played for England?" Will cried, flabbergasted. 

"Yeah, at least, that's what Professor Lupin told me."

"Seriously? What was his name?"

Harry froze. He couldn't reveal anything about his family for fear of being found out. What was he _thinking_ saying stuff like that? "Um." He stalled, all the while feeling a burning sensation centering on his brow once more.

"Hey, what's that on your head?" Mike questioned, staring at the slowly forming lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead.

Sweat dripping down his neck, Harry grabbed his robes and sprinted for the bathroom, calling a hasty, "see you later!" behind him. 

Twenty minutes later, freshly showered and changed, Harry thundered down the Ravenclaw staircase and into the common room, making sure he'd strengthened the spell concealing his scar.

He smiled at a group of third year girls clustered by the fireplace, making them giggle wildly as he passed them on his way out the door.

Getting his bearings, he trekked about the corridors, searching for the Great Hall and hopefully, Professor Lupin.

~*~

"Professor Lupin!" Harry called as he made his way to the head table, once again ignoring the giggles and stares that followed him on his approach.

Remus turned away from his conversation with Professor Gudgeon and looked at Harry in mild anticipation. "What is it, Harry?"

Harry shot furtive looks at both Minerva, who was sitting to Remus's right, and to Remus himself. "Can I speak with the both of you quickly?" he asked, staring at Remus with imploring eyes.

Minerva and Remus exchanged glances. "Certainly. Follow me to my office." The headmistress said, getting up and leading the small parade out of the great hall.

Once settled in Minerva's office, Harry took command. "Last night, I had another vision." He paused, taking a deep breath. "He was getting sorted—into Slytherin—and then I could see—I could see him killing my mum and dad. And my scar was hurting so bad and it bled again; it reappeared, even though the charm was still on it. I strengthened it this morning."

Minerva looked shaken. "How can this be happening? I mean—Albus defeated him; you saw it, we all saw it! How can he be affecting you in this way?"

"The sorting hat—it said that there was something in me. And in Professor Dumbledore's letter, he said he thought Voldemort transferred his powers to me, right?"

"Right." Minerva looked uneasy.

Harry steeled his courage, determined to get out what he had come to realize. "Then that's it. I'm seeing Hogwarts and everything after through his eyes. It happens when I'm exhausted and nervous—and it's getting worse."

Lupin was deadly pale. "How can we fix this?"

Harry closed his eyes, tilting his head down. "I don't think we can. It's like he's sending me a message. He wants something—and it's not going to stop until he gets it, or kills me in the process."

Minerva's jaw was set, resolute. "I refuse to accept that, Harry. He will not be getting anything and you will not be dying anytime soon; not if I have anything to say about it."

Harry cracked a smile. "Thank you," he said softly, looking up slightly.

Her eyes shone as she spoke again. "This creature will not take another innocent life. I will swear this to you now. Harry, are you willing to do all you can to help?"

Harry looked up, eyes burning with a cold green fire. "Anything." He said, his voice radiating strength.

Minerva and Remus looked proud as Harry sat tall, willing to unknowingly accept whatever was to come.

"I have to be honest with you, Harry. I do not know exactly how to fight this. We will need to work hard—researching and training. You need to build your strength in order to possibly control these visions. It'll be tough, but I know you can handle it."

"If I may make a suggestion?" Remus cut in. "We're going to need all the help we can get—someone who knows the library like the back of her hand."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, confused.

"Hermione Granger." Remus said simply. "Finest student I've seen in a long while."

"Miss Granger? She'd certainly be an asset—God knows she's smart enough. We'll talk to her this afternoon. Harry, we'll be calling you back down here later, okay? And don't worry—we won't tell her exactly _why_ we're looking these things up." Minerva said primly.

"Thank you, Professor. I really appreciate all this secrecy—I just don't want people to flock around me because of something I can't even remember."

"I understand, Harry. It's very admirable that you wish to make your own name for yourself. But now, I believe that we are missing a delicious breakfast, so if we'd adjoin?" Remus said, smiling slightly.

Minerva nodded her assent, nodding as Harry and Remus stood and exited. She turned to the window, staring out the thick pane and onto the grounds below. Her manner was serene, but her eyes alone showed the internal anguish she was repressing. She knew it was farfetched, but in light of the present circumstances could not help thinking:_ Could Harry Potter be the next dark lord?_

She shivered, dispelling the thought from her mind. He was a great kid—bright and witty; very outgoing—not the evil overlord type at all.

_But then_, she thought, her mind drifting back to her own Hogwarts days, _you didn't think that Tom could fall that hard, either._

~*~

Harry sat quietly next to Cho, still internally deliberating over his current situation—he didn't like to admit it, but frankly, he was scared. These dreams were physically and mentally traumatizing and seemed to be getting worse each time. 

Cho was looking at him, a worried expression on her face. He hadn't said two words since he'd sat down, and although they hadn't known each other very long, his sudden silence did not hold with his usual extroverted personality.

She had asked him if he was all right, but he merely nodded his head, immediately returning to wherever it was that he was thinking about. Harry was important to her already; it was like they had just instinctively connected.

Professor Flitwick stopped by then, distributing the Ravenclaws' schedules for the year. The tiny little professor paused for a moment next to where Cho and Harry were sitting, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he spoke. "It's wonderful to finally meet you, Harry!" he squeaked, his voice brimming with awe. "I look forward to having you in class!" 

Harry smiled weakly at the professor. "Thank you, Professor Flitwick. It was good to meet you, too." He said quietly, shaking the professor's outstretched hand, making Flitwick emit a small squeak of enthusiasm.

As Flitwick moved away, Harry noticed the questioning looks directed his way from Cho and his roommates who were sitting nearby. 

"What was that about?" Will asked loudly. "You would think you were royalty or something."

Harry shrugged, flushing a little bit. "I guess he knew my parents a long time ago."

Will and the other boys accepted this readily, but Cho was still looking at him suspiciously. "Really, Harry? Is everything all right?"

Harry swung his emerald eyes to meet hers, forcing a smile. She stifled a gasp; there was such an extraordinary amount of pain and anxiety hidden in the jade depths. "I'm fine, really I am. Just a little nervous about starting classes, I guess." He glanced down at his schedule, scanning it quickly. "I had better get going, though. Got Potions in ten minutes." He motioned to Will, Mike, and Joe, who got up as he did and followed him out of the hall.

Cho stared blankly after him. What could have happened to him in such a short time to depress him so fully?

~*~

The day passed uneventfully, classes came and went, and Harry was pleased to find that he was, in fact, much more advanced than many of his classmates. Most of his lessons were with the Gryffindors, and seeing Ginny Weasley's familiar face was comforting. They had spoke briefly, exchanging pleasantries and opinions on particular hooked-nosed Defense Against the Dark Arts professors.

Harry couldn't understand why Professor Snape seemed to hate him so much. Ginny had echoed what the other girls had said: that Professor Snape was brilliant, and not exactly nice per se, but perfectly amicable to all of them. Harry was glad that he didn't have Defense until Thursday, anyway.

Over dinner, a tawny owl fluttered down to where Harry sat, depositing a letter on his lap before flying swiftly away. He opened it quickly. Inside was a short note listing the password for Minerva's office and the time when to meet. He crumpled it up quickly, tucking it inside his robes before anyone nearby could ask too many questions.

Scarfing down a baked potato, he said a quick goodbye to Cho, promising to meet her in the common room shortly and sped off towards Minerva's office. When he arrived, he found himself alone with the headmistress to await the arrival of Professor Lupin and Hermione Granger.

As they waited, Harry and Minerva spoke a bit about different things, just generally getting better acquainted. During this time, Harry felt it necessary to tell her about the transformation he had undergone on his way to school.

Not particularly knowing how to tell someone that you turned into a Phoenix in order to make it to school on time, he just blurted it out. "I flew to school yesterday. I was a phoenix." He said quickly.

Minerva's jaw dropped. "What?" she said quietly.

"A phoenix. At least, I think I was a phoenix, anyway. I just meant to turn into a bird, to fly from the station so I wouldn't be so late, you know, and I—my God, Minerva, I _was_ magic."

"A phoenix?" Minerva asked, her voice trembling. "Can you do it again?"

Harry stood up, nodding. "I think so. At least, I can try."

Minerva shot a locking charm at the door, sealing it shut. She nodded at him. "Go ahead, Harry."

He closed his eyes, drawing to focus a picture of a bird in flight, falling in graceful parabolas over the light clouds that dotted a clear blue sky. He felt the now-familiar magical burst envelop his body, calling forth the change that was now imprinted in his consciousness. Red-gold plumage spurted forth, exuding magnificence. Unearthly music filled his brain, intoxicating him with its beauty and serenity.

He was light.

He was the air.

He was magic at its very essence.

And he loved it.

The world seemed to be covered by a golden shroud, blanketing everything in his line of vision with a luminescent gilded tinge. He flew higher; creating his own airborne waltz to music only he could hear.

Through his euphoria, he could see Minerva, standing stock-still near her desk, just watching him in his flight.

Seeing her brought him back to his senses. For a moment there, he was no longer Harry Potter (or even Harry Dursley)—he was something older than time, something transcendent and ethereal, something that simply was. Coming to a rest on the chair in which he once sat, Harry focused on the transformation that brought him back to himself. He slumped against the wooden backrest, feeling his own magic surround him like a palpable cloud. 

He looked up, feeling alone and incomplete. "That was amazing." He whispered, running his hands lazily through his hair.

"Amazing..." Minerva echoed, still looking on in disbelief.

They sat in silence, both contemplating the same event, both coming to their own conclusions. 

Finally, Harry spoke. "It's not supposed to be like that, is it?" He looked like he was thinking hard, "I'm not supposed to be able to turn into a phoenix, am I? I'm not supposed to have that much energy when I transform—Minerva, what's going on? I've pretty much taken your word for everything, because I sure as hell don't have any explanation for what's been happening to me, but I'm really beginning to suspect that there's something more—something more you're not telling me. Maybe you don't even know what else there is. Maybe no one does. God, I'm scared." He said this all very quickly, tugging anxiously at the hem of his shirt.

Minerva stared at him silently, before speaking slowly. "To my recollection, there has never been a phoenix animagus, really, there has never been anyone who could transform into a truly magical creature. There has, however, been only one other who had multiple animagi forms, and that was Godric Gryffindor."

"So—the only reason I can transform like this is because I'm the heir of Gryffindor?"

"I believe so. I have to admit, I do not know much more about what's going on with you than you do. These research sessions with Remus and Miss Granger will, hopefully, be as beneficial to me as it will be to you."

"So we're all basically in the same boat then, huh?"

"Precisely." Minerva pressed her lips into a slight smile. "I must tell you, Harry. It is quite intriguing to discover all these new things you can do. Highly educational—not to mention absolutely incredible."

Harry laughed. "I guess I'll never be exactly normal, will I?"

"Never. Although, who are we to say what normal is?"

"True, Professor. Too true."

A sharp knock thudded on the door. Remus's voice called in, "Minerva? Are you in there?"

"Come in, Remus. Have you got Miss Granger with you?"

The door swung open and Remus and Hermione stood in the threshold, Remus looking somewhat amused, and Hermione looking plain confused, especially when she noticed Harry sitting in the chair across from the headmistress.

"Um, yes, Professor McGonagall, I'm here." Hermione said, her voice betraying the nervousness that her countenance masked.

"Please. Take a seat." Minerva said, motioning to the empty chair next to Harry, who smiled reassuringly at her as she sat down.

"I'm sure you're wondering what's going on, Miss Granger—" she broke off as Hermione cut in.

"I swear, Professor, I wanted to stop him! He just thinks he's so funny sometimes and simply will not listen to reason, no matter how many times I tell him, it's always the same old thing:" her voice took on a mocking tinge, "nah, Hermione. It'll be okay. Trust me. We won't get in any trouble." She frowned. "Whatever it is, I swear I can make up for it. I'll do extra-credit—you know I'm good for it. I really don't want this to get in the way of my chances of being head girl. I simply couldn't stand it if I was completely out of the running." She looked pleadingly up at the headmistress.

"As much as I would like to know exactly _what_ you are speaking of, something devious, no doubt involving Mr. Weasley and his little band of merry men, we have called you here tonight for a different reason." She raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who had the grace to look embarrassed, her skin flushing red.

"Oh. Um. Yes?" she asked.

"We are embarking on a project, Professor Lupin and I, and we are in need of some assistance. Before you accept, please know that this project will invariably entail quite a lot of time spent in the library, and the utmost need for secrecy. You will not tell anyone what you are doing or what you are researching is this clear? Can you abide by these rules?"

Hermione Granger sat up stiffly in her seat, smiling widely. "Of course, Professor. I would be honored to help in any way I can. Although, may I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What exactly are we researching? And why is he here?" she asked, looking pointedly at Harry.

"Mr. Dursley is going to be assisting, as well. I would not underestimate him, Miss Granger, he has a sharp mind." Harry fought a smile at the headmistress's praise. "As for your other question, we will be looking deeply into the rise and fall of the Dark Lord and the use of power-transfer, its effects and symptoms, that sort of thing. Harry can explain it to you more in detail when you get to the library. I can assume you understand why we want to keep this as quiet as possible, right?"

Hermione's face was pale, but her eyes were shining brightly with anticipation. "How fascinating, Professor!" she exclaimed. "I've secretly been wanting to study You-Know-Who for the longest time, you know, just how could someone become that evil? What makes him tick, so to speak."

"I'm sure you will find this project quite to your satisfaction then." Remus interjected. "Please, if you do find anything worthwhile, come to us immediately. Harry, I believe you know what to look for as well?"

"Yes, actually. Min—Professor McGonagall and I already spoke about it, and I do have some ideas of my own that I'd like to look into."

Remus smiled. "Very well. We're counting on you, don't let us down."

"Really, Remus, you sound a cheesy motivational speaker." Harry laughed.

Hermione looked shocked. "I really don't think you should be talking to Professor Lupin like that." 

Harry grinned innocently at Remus, who was fighting a grin of his own. "Quite all right, Miss Granger. Harry and I are old friends, and although I do not recommend his insubordination, I must say, his father would be quite amused indeed if he did not speak to me in such a manner."

Hermione looked confused. 

Harry leaned over, whispering, "he went to school with my dad. They were good friends."

"Oh." Hermione said.

"Now that things are explained, why don't you two head off to the library and begin. We all have a lot of work ahead of us." Minerva interjected.

Harry and Hermione rose and made for the door. 

"Oh, and Miss Granger, I wouldn't worry about not being head girl, if you catch my drift."

Hermione broke out into a huge grin. Harry laughed in spite of himself at her expression.

Together, they left, heading down the staircase to the immense library. 

~*~

Harry wandered alone amongst the twisting, book-filled, shelves of the Hogwarts library. He scanned the titles, looking for anything remotely dealing with power-transfer, Voldemort, and Godric Gryffindor himself.

Randomly selecting an armload of books, Harry made his way back to where Hermione was sitting, surrounded by thick tomes, reading quietly.

He plopped down next to her, smiling as she looked up. "Hello again, Hermione." He said cheerfully.

She raised her eyebrows before returning to her book.

"Well, anyway, since we're going to be working together, we might as well be friends, don't you think?"

Hermione looked at him sternly. "This is a really important project. We don't have time to mess around."

"Trust me, I know exactly how important this is."

"Then why aren't you working?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Do you ever relax? Ever? I think, and it's always worked for me in the past, that people work better together once they're acquainted and comfortable with each other. It makes the working environment less stressful."

Hermione set her book down. "Fine. What do you want to talk about?"

Harry smiled. "Well, how about telling me a little bit about yourself?"

Hermione set her lips in a straight line. "Right. About me. Well, I'm Hermione Granger, no nickname, never had one, will never answer to one. I was born in London to John and Helene Granger, both of whom are dentists, thus making me very, very, Muggle-born. I take pride in my work, whatever it is I'm doing and once wanted to be a doctor. Now, my plans have changed and I am thinking about full-time research, perhaps even a teaching position somewhere." She paused. "Oh, and I'm going out with Ron Weasley." She added, almost as an afterthought.

Harry looked at her. She stared right back, not once breaking his gaze. "Yeah, okay, that's all fine and good, but really, who are you?"

"What?" Hermione asked, her tone quite cross.

"You've told me _what_ you are, now tell me _who_ you are. What are you really like? What do you want in life? What are you looking for? Who do you want to be?"

"I don't think I understand." 

"All I want to know is who you really are. You're too smart of a person to let yourself be described by your birth and who you're currently dating."

"I really don't think I need to sit here and listen to this—especially not from you!"

"What does that mean?"

"What do you think it means? Why should I tell you anything about my private life? I don't even know you!"

"Fine. I guess that's fair. I'm Harry Dursley. I live in Sofeba, New Zealand, which is a little island off the coast where it's warm all year round and everybody gets along, with my aunt and uncle. We own a sugar plantation where I spend a lot of my free time helping out in the fields or doing the paperwork. My uncle trusts me with that, and that means a lot to me—to have his trust. I never got along very well with my aunt, something I'm sure I'll regret later, but since she'll barely look at me, I can't very well remedy it. I love sports and being outside. I'll run for hours around the plantation and down by the cove, which is on the western end of our land. I play basketball and baseball and run track, too. Doing my best is always important to me because I like to know that the reason people look up to me is because of something I did, something I accomplished."

"Schoolwork is second nature to me. I always enjoyed learning and reading—it's like finding your own special world, as I'm sure you can relate. I love music of all kinda—I play the piano a bit, too. I just found out I was magical at the beginning of August, so all of this came as quite a shock to me, as I'm sure you can also relate to."

"Oh, and I'm a Leo and I like fine Italian foods and long walks on the beach." He finished with a colossal grin.

At this, Hermione cracked a smile. "That's lovely." She said amusedly. "So you're Muggle-born, too?"

"Well, not exactly. My parents were magical, but they died in a car accident when I was little, so I've lived with my Aunt Petunia, who's my mother's sister, and my Uncle Vernon, who are Muggles."

"Oh." She paused, looking at her hands. "Did you say you like school, too?" she asked timidly.

Harry's eyes lit up. Finally, a chink in her armor! "Yes, I mean, I love reading and learning new things. I can assume from your assignment to this project that you're a kindred spirit?"

She smiled. "Precisely. Ron always makes fun of me for getting so enthused about school. He just doesn't understand what it's like to just hide away in your room, curled up with a classic."

"One of my favorite pastimes, actually." 

"You like Muggle literature? Oh, of course, why wouldn't you? Any favorites in particular?" she asked, intrigued.

"I'll read just about anything you put in front of me, really. Of course, I love the classics—Salinger, James, Steinbeck, Hemingway, Tolstoy, Bronte, Austen—all the best."

"You know, this is the first intellectually stimulating conversation I've had in all my time here at Hogwarts."

"Good to know I'm of some assistance."

Hermione laughed aloud. "You know, you're really not that bad, Harry." She said, looking at him appraisingly. 

Harry grinned toothily. "Again, good to know."

"You're a rather cheeky fellow, aren't you?"

"Hmm. Yes, I would say so."

Hermione laughed loudly again, earning a disapproving glare from Madame Pinch, the librarian. Looking sheepish, Harry and Hermione settled down and began the lengthy task of getting through the thick volumes piled up between them.

As Harry stumbled back to the common room (extremely) later that evening, he couldn't help but think that in spite of everything that was going on, Hogwarts really wasn't so bad. 

~*~

****

Author's Note: Whew! Seventeen pages on Microsoft Word—I amaze even myself. :D I'd like to thank you all for waiting patiently for this chapter. I know it's a little bit boring, but it brings out a bit more plot points. Have no fear! Exciting things will happen soon! I'm no Trelawney, but I see Quidditch in the near future! Am very proud to announce that we are now posting on Fiction Alley as well as FanFiction.net. I'm so proud! Thank you all for your support—this story has garnered more support than I could have ever dreamed!

Forgive me for not replying to individual reviews this chapter—I plead fatigue. I will answer more review questions next chapter, but I have to admit, getting this chapter out nearly killed me! 

Again, thank you all for your support. I appreciate it more than you know. Please keep on reviewing. Believe it or not, I'm getting good ideas for future events from what you guys are telling me. 

Thanks for the Poe support—I really like her, too! And I'm glad that Cho is all right, too. I really am worried about how I'm characterizing my—ahem—characters. Please tell me if I'm creating any Mary Sues here.

Until next time, 

Lauren and NAPPA

****

Disclaimer: This story was based on characters and plot lines developed by J.K. Rowling and in no way, shape, or form do they belong to us.

The title, "Free as a Bird" is an awesome song by the Beatles—it's on their Anthology—beautiful song. As you can see, that plainly doesn't belong to us either.


	7. Chapter Seven: Sympathy for the Devil

Tangled Fates

A Harry Potter FanFiction

By Lauren and NAPPA

Chapter Seven: Sympathy for the Devil

__

Pleased to meet you  
Hope you guess my name  
But what's puzzling you  
Is the nature of my game

--The Rolling Stones

Morning dawned crisp and clear, September sunlight filtering pale sunbeams through the thick glass windows of the Great Hall. The daily stream of post owls fluttered down through the sunlight, each carrying a bit of home to his or her owner. From his place at the Ravenclaw table, Harry looked up, instinctively searching for a snatch of jet black against the dappled grays and browns of the other owls.

Flying in, Poe carried a large package with her, gently fluttering towards where Harry sat. Alighting on his shoulder, Poe dropped her bundle on the table in front of Harry. He slipped her a few bits of bacon and whispered, "Thank you, Poe. I know that was a long journey."

Poe seemed to smile at him before nodding her head in an unmistakable bow and flying off again.

Cho was looking at him inquisitively. "Was that..._yours_?"

Harry nodded absently, picking up his parcel and opening it. "Yeah. Her name's Poe."

Cho gaped at him. "You have a _raven_?"

Harry tore his eyes away from Vernon's letter to look at her. "And this is bad...why?"

"How did you get her to stay with you? Magical ravens are known to be independent and very, very rarely will stay with any one person. Even I tried to get a raven when I first came to Hogwarts—none would trust me enough. You're really lucky, Harry—that raven will be extremely loyal to you."

"I don't know. I just picked her out at the store. Anyway, my uncle sent me a whole bunch of things from home, so I'm going to go run these to my dorm. I'll see you at lunch, okay?"

"Sure. See you, Harry."

Harry gathered up his things and hurried out of the great hall.

~*~

Once in his dorm, Harry sank down on his bed, happily drinking in all the news from home that his uncle had sent him.

_Dear Harry,_

I must say, it was quite a shock to see a raven fluttering through the kitchen window this morning. (You should have seen the look on your poor aunt's face!) Hogwarts sounds great. I am very pleased that you like it. I was worried that it would've been too much of a shock at first, but it sounds like a great place. I really do want to see it someday.

_Your classes sound equally as fascinating—I knew you'd do well. _

Things are going well here. Danny drops by every now and then to help with the harvest. (You're lucky you're not here this season—biggest crop I've seen in years and you'd be working yourself to the bone!) Danny says that Jimmy Parnell has been made captain in your place, although I am assured that no one could ever do as good of a job as you did.

I don't believe you know exactly how popular you were around here. Ever since you left, the ladies of the town have been dropping by in droves to see if it's "really true" that you've left. I swear, that Feliciano girl has been here at least ten times!

So you're undercover, are you? I must admit, I don't exactly understand why you're so famous—it's got to be quite odd for you, I guess.

All I have to say is just keep up the good work—even though you're at this magic school, I do expect you to keep up the same grades as you did while you were at St. Gabe's. Although I know I needn't worry—you always do great, no matter what.

Say hello to Remus Lupin for me. He's a good fellow. Your Aunt Petunia says hello, as well.

Love,

Uncle Vernon

P.S. Enclosed are some things that you may have accidentally left behind.

-V.

Harry set Vernon's letter aside and pulled apart the wrappings on the parcel. Out fell a well-used basketball and ten or so dog-eared paperbacks. Harry beamed as he looked through the titles: Great Expectations, The Catcher in the Rye, Anna Karenina, and a few others.Just then, Will burst through the door, prompting Harry to drop his books and look up, startled.

"Come on, Harry! I've been looking for you everywhere! We've got Defense in five minutes! Trust me, you don't wanna be late for that!"

Harry grimaced. "Snape?" he questioned.

Will's eyes lit up. "Yeah! Maybe he'll show us his scars from when he dueled with You-Know-Who himself!"

"Snape fought with Vol—I mean, You-Know-Who?" Harry asked, impressed.

"It was amazing! Every year, he tells us a little more about what happened to him. There are rumors that he actually was a _spy_ for Dumbledore, right in You-Know-Who's inner circle! Snape's class is the best! Come on, we have to go!"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and dashed out after Will.

~*~

There were many windows that looked in to Professor Severus Snape's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, but for some reason, no matter the amount of sunlight streaming though these windows, the classroom was unequivocally dark. To add to the gloomy atmosphere, the front wall was adorned only with a single poster depicting the remains of what appeared to once be a middle-aged man. Emblazoned across the top, blood red words screamed out "Always Pay Attention!" to drive the point home.

All in all, it wasn't a very cheery place.

Professor Snape stood tall in front of the classroom, surveying his students like a king surveys his kingdom. Technically speaking, this was his kingdom, and God knows he was aware of it.

"Welcome," his crisp voice rang out, breaking the silence, "to another year."

The collected fifth year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors watched him silently as he paced about the front of the room, no one daring to make a sound.

"I must admit, I do look forward to this class. The fifth year is a very consequential year in the course of your education, and I aim to further your knowledge in any way I possibly can. For that is why we are here, after all, not to play a silly game on broomsticks, not to run amok on a nearby town, but to learn. You are among the best—young Ravenclaws, known for their intelligence and wit, and young Gryffindors—infamous for bravery. I must pose this question then, my students—what would you do in the face of evil? Would you amaze even myself with your knowledge of curses and hexes? Would you stand and fight? Or would you run?"

The class was spellbound, hanging on his every word.

"This is the question I ask you, and the question you must ask yourselves—trust me, I've asked myself this same question many times in my dark and seedy past," he allowed himself a self-depreciating chuckle, "and I have come to the inescapable conclusion that the answer to this question lies within your very own character. Character. What makes you, you? I doubt if you even know yourselves at this point, much less be able to tell me who you think you are. It's a difficult thing to understand, this question of character, but I certainly hope that when it's your back against the wall, your inner mettle is strong enough."

The only sound was that of Snape's dragonhide boots tapping out their staccato rhythm as he crossed the floor to his desk.

"And this invariably leads us up to where we were last year—an in-depth discussion of the Unforgivable curses. Speaking of which, I have a delightful little quiz I'd like you to complete before the end of class."

The class collectively groaned.

Snape held up a long, thin finger. "Ah, no complaints. I need to assess what you've managed to managed to retain from last year—and of course, to see what _some_ people" he looked pointedly at Harry, "know, inasmuch to not waste my time."

Harry rolled his eyes.

Snape scowled. "P—Dursley! Pass these to the class."

Harry got up and took the sheaf of parchments, passing them out to his classmates. He sat down, carefully skimming the contents. It looked fairly easy—basic questions on the effects of the Cruciatus Curse, telltale signs of the Imperius Curse, that sort of thing. Needless to say, Harry was quite pleased that he had found The Unforgivables: Protection and Awareness by the Auror's Guild while searching the library with Hermione.

He zipped through the questions, answering them to the best of his knowledge, which, I don't mind adding, was quite good. Finally, he came to the last question, which, much to Harry's surprise, was about him.

He looked around furtively at the rest of the class before tacking the question: _Who is the only known survivor of Avada Kedavra, and how, in your opinion, did he/she survive?_

Harry thought carefully before jotting down his reply. It was rather bizarre to write about himself in the third person, and even weirder to write about himself at all. _The only known survivor of Avada Kedavra is Harry Potter, who somehow managed to live through the spell when it was cast upon him by Voldemort himself. To the best of my recollection, no one knows for certain how Potter lived, although there are many theories, most of which pertain to either a mistake on Voldemort's part or something incredibly special about The Boy Who Lived. In my opinion, Harry Potter was incredibly lucky to live, although being as that his parents were killed in his defense (also another possible explanation as to how he survived) I wonder if really he was the victor of that particular battle._

Satisfied, and not particularly willing to divulge too much about himself, Harry left it at that. The bell rung as Snape was collecting the quizzes and he let them leave with a promise that they would be graded for next class. Feeling inordinately pleased with himself for surviving his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Harry trekked through the school behind Will to his first Divination lesson.

~*~

The Divination room in itself was extraordinary, not even counting the eccentric professor who made it her home. Sybil Trelawney was, to say the least, interesting. She flitted around the incense-saturated room, cloaked in gauze and spangles, gazing at her pupils through large misty eyes.

"Welcome back to the mysticism of Divination." She proclaimed softly. "This year is very special, my children. The fates have informed me that we shall be reading the future through the Tarot this year—a very select few of you, I have seen, shall become quite proficient at readings, all the better, for I have also seen that the Tarot will encompass quite a bit of your final exam."

Next to Harry, Will hastily stifled a snort of laughter, drawing Trelawney's gaze. "Ah, Mister Jones, pity, you still seem as mundane to the clairvoyant auras as always."

Will scowled. "Isn't it a shame?"

"The dismal grade that I am seeing in your future is also quite a shame, Mister Jones."

Harry laughed shortly, shutting up as he saw the glare etched on Will's face. Trelawney stared at him.

"I am to call you Mister Dursley, is that correct?" she whispered, looking intensely at a random spot below his hairline.

"Um, yes, that's my name, Professor."

"Yes, yes—" she trailed off. "You certainly are a special one, aren't you, Mister Dursley? I would like to do a reading for you, if you wouldn't mind, you know, for demonstration purposes."

"Well—"

"Splendid!" She grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him to the front of the room, plopping him down in a plushy armchair situated in front of a highly polished mahogany table. She sat down across from him, pulling out a purple velvet drawstring bag. "Reach in and pull out a deck." She commanded.

Hesitantly, Harry reached into the bag. His fingertips connected with something solid and a shiver ran down his spine. He wrapped his hand around the deck and pulled it out, wordlessly handing it to Trelawney.

Her eyes widened. "Incredible, Mister Dursley. Le Paquet D'Ivoire—given to me by a French gypsy many years ago—only those with intense power can summon it. I've never even used it before." Her voice was low and she was staring at the intricate deck raptly, tracing its adornments with a long, bejeweled finger.

The class was staring at the pair, some, who'd heard what Trelawney said, in amazement.

She shuffled through the deck quickly before laying the beautiful cards out in an elaborate pattern. Harry watched with growing anticipation as she flipped the cards,m reading them softly.

"Unexpected danger...betrayal...hidden truths...you hold a lot of power—it's right here...your fortune will turn swiftly...beware...a devastating foe...oh!" she shot back from the table.

"What? What is it?" Harry cried.

She looked at him, immense sadness traced all over her face. "My poor boy, you have the grim!"

"The grim?!" 

"Oh, you poor thing! The grim is an omen of death!"

"What?"

"I'd be careful if I were you, Harry." Will interjected, smirking. "Now you're going to die."

"I am _not_ going to die!" Harry said hotly.

"But the Tarot never lies!" Will and Trelawney chorused together, Will laughing and Professor Trelawney looking horribly affronted.

Harry smiled. "Listen, if I were going to die, I think I would have done so already. Really, Professor—nothing to worry about."

"I don't like the flippant way you're dealing with this, but it is brave of you to accept your fate so well. Runs in your family, you know. That Gryffindor bravery."

Harry gulped. "I—I'm a Ravenclaw."

Professor Trelawney smiled superiorly. "I think you forget that I possess the Inner Eye, _Harry._" She said pointedly. "Class dismissed."

Harry ignored the stares of his classmates and made his way back to the common room. Cho was there, sitting on a cozy blue and gold sofa, engrossed in the latest copy of _Which Broomstick?_.

"Hey. Cho." Harry greeted amicably.

"Harry! I didn't see you there! Are you finished with your classes?"

"Yeah, just got out of Divination. Trelawney thinks I'm going to die."

"Oh, that's too bad."

"Apparently I have the grim."

"Horrible shame. I suppose I shall speak at your funeral. 'Such a tragic loss! So young!' I will say."

"Good to know I can count on you, Cho."

"Always."

Harry laughed. "Anyway, what do you want to do? I have the night free."

"Actually, there's Quidditch tryouts tonight. McGonagall's announcing it at dinner."

"Really? D'you think I can try out?"

"You want to play?"

"Yeah, I do! I can play well, too so there's no need for pity votes."

"Like I would vote for you anyway."

"Again, really nice to know I can count on you."

"Well, if you want to play, we'll go down to the pitch together at about six." Cho said, laughing.

"Okay, sounds good." Harry replied, smiling. "Come on, let's go to dinner. I'm starved. Those incense fumes made me hungry."

Cho nodded her acquiesce and the two meandered to the Great Hall, chatting about nothing and everything.

~*~

Harry and Cho walked through the warm night air, Harry shouldering his Firebolt and feeling the familiar swarm of butterflies that always seemed to form in his stomach before a big game. In a way, it was almost reassuring knowing that no matter where he was some things would always be the same.

They arrived at the pitch as the sun began to creep downward, swirling the sky with streaks of pink and orange. It was a beautiful night; the air was warm and the wind was soft, and personally, Harry couldn't wait to get into the air.

There was a small group already assembled when they made their entrance, Cho's arrival garnering a few piteous smiles from younger students. Cho pointedly ignored their looks and held her head high. Finally, the rest of the team made their way to the pitch and the try out began.

The younger students mounted their brooms first, one at a time, as Terry Boot, a sixth year chaser and team captain, released the snitch time and time again into the night air, the beaters timing each applicant. If it took the flyer longer than fifteen minutes, they were called down and disqualified from the running.

Harry watched nervously as a third year girl landed in tears after her fifteen minutes were up. Praying that it wouldn't happen to him, he recalled some of the better applicants. To his untrained eye, some of them were quite good, although no one was really outstandingly spectacular yet.

"Harry Dursley!" Cho called, shaking Harry out of his reverie with a jolt.

He stood quickly and walked to the center of the pitch where Boot was waiting. 

"Okay, Dursley, is it? You'll have fifteen minutes to try to catch the snitch. We'll be timing you and well, the best time wins. Good luck."

Harry nodded, closing his eyes briefly to gather his wits about him before kicking off into the air.

As soon as he was airborne, however, all of his insecurities vanished. He instinctively knew what to do—he was in control. He flew higher and faster, scanning the ground with his eyes when suddenly he spotted the snitch hovering near the ground by the bleachers.

He narrowed his eyes in concentration, pointing the handle of his broom straight down. He sped faster and faster towards the ground, his eyes focused on the small glint of gold that fluttered unaware. He zoomed downward, the wind whipping through his hair and sending his robes flapping behind him like black storm clouds. He could vaguely hear gasps of amazement as he flipped over, his hair skimming the grass as he stretched out his arm, reaching for the snitch. 

He snatched it out of the air, relief streaming through his senses as he felt the tiny wings fluttering against his palm. 

Righting himself, he held up his arm, signaling the capture. He hopped off his broom, shouldering it once more and walked over to Terry Boot, handing him the snitch.

"Bloody incredible, Dursley!" he cried. "Barely a minute and a half! Best dive I've seen in years!"

Harry beamed. "Thanks!"

Cho looked at him, eyes wide. "I've never seen anyone go that fast, ever. You were amazing, Harry. You're a shoo-in."

The other potential seekers were glaring fiercely at him as he took his seat, watching the rest of them take their turns. Will was there, and he flew well, but it was clear that he wasn't built to be a seeker—he flew straight and fast, like a chaser and Harry supposed that next year, Will would have no problem filling in for the graduating Ravenclaw chasers.

Will plopped down next to Harry, clapping him on the back. "I had no idea you were so good, Harry. Hey—next year when I go for chaser, can you kinda sway things my way, d'you think?"

Harry laughed. "I'm not even on the team yet, Will!"

Will rolled his eyes. "Honesty! It's not like anyone's going to beat you!"

Harry flushed. "I don't know..."

"Well, I know because I've seen a lot of Quidditch matches in my life but I haven't seen anyone fly like you ever! I wouldn't be surprised if the league signs you right out of Hogwarts!"

"That would be cool." Harry said thoughtfully.

"Are you kidding me? You could get me tickets to all the good games! It would be more than cool!"

Harry laughed aloud. "Sure, I'd get you tickets, but I really don't think I'm good enough to play professionally or anything!"

Will shook his head, "You really have no idea how good you are, do you?'

"Honestly! I'm not that good, Will!"

Just then, Cho and the rest of the team came over, effectively halting all conversation for now.

"First, we'd like to thank all of you for coming out tonight. We would be lucky to have any one of you play for us. However, we only have one open position and after much debate, we've decided on Harry Dursley. Harry, do you accept?" Terry asked.

"Of course!"

"Excellent! Harry's our new seeker then. All of you—better luck next year!"

The crowd dispersed, leaving only the team itself alone on the pitch. 

Terry spoke up again. "Well, guys, I think I can say that Gryffindor is in for a _huge_ surprise this year! They won't know what hit 'em!"

The team cheered and Terry continued. "Harry—if you can fly that well every time, no one will even come close. I want to keep you a secret, though, we'll tell the house not to let it slip who's playing seeker. Our first game's versus Gryffindor in a month and a half and if they don't know how you fly they can't effectively neutralize you. Okay, everyone?"

A chorus of "yeahs" and "yeses" sounded in response and Terry dismissed the team.

Harry smiled widely as he and Cho walked back to the school together, both excitedly discussing Ravenclaw's chances for the cup.

~*~

A large, tawny owl fluttered in alone the next morning, dropping a thick letter into the hands of one Ron Weasley. He tore it open instantly and screamed. "Oh, my God! Ginny! C'mere! Look at this!"

The Gyrffindors huddled around the Weasleys as Ron read aloud from _The Daily Prophet_: _"Yesterday, in an unanimous vote, Arthur Weasley, former Head of International Cooperation, was declared England's new Minister of Magic, the first, as we all know, since the war."_

"Minister Weasley issued this statement shortly after the vote: 'My family and I are extremely overjoyed at this new appointment. I promise you, I will work my hardest to get this country back to the way it was before the war. Thank you to everyone for your continued support.'"

"Weasley and his wife of thirty years, Molly have seven children: William, a curse-breaker for Gringotts bank; Charles, a dragon wrangler in Romania; Percival, Personal Assistant to the Minister; Frederick and George, twin co-founders and proprietors of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes joke shop; Ronald, a sixth-year Gryffindor student at Hogwarts; and Virginia, a fifth-year Gryffindor at Hogwarts." 

"In Minister Weasley's first act as Minister, he will be traveling to the island fortress of Azkaban to complete the yearly Ministry inspection of the prison."

"An inaugural ball will be held in two weeks time at the Ritz-Merlin in London."

Ron grabbed Ginny and swung her around, the two of them whooping madly while their housemates cheered along with them. Ron set Ginny down and grabbed Hermione, who was smiling widely. He pulled her into a deep kiss, whispering in her ear. Her smile got wider as he lifted her up, swinging her around as he did Ginny.

From the Head Table, Minerva watched the scene with a large grin plastered across her face. "Ahem." She cleared her throat loudly, tapping on her goblet to restore order. "If you please?" 

The Gryffindors sat down, still visibly excited. 

"Congratulations, Mr. and Miss Weasley. I am certain your father will do an excellent job."

"Thank you, Professor," Ginny called from the Gryffindor table.

"Now that all the excitement has passed, everyone, please, return to your breakfast."

Cho's eagle owl dropped her copy of _The Daily Prophet_ on her plate next and she grabbed it excitedly, wanting to read the article on Arthur Weasley.

"Oh, Harry! This is incredible! If anyone deserves this, Uncle Arthur does. I'll have to send an owl to Aunt Molly as soon as I can."

"The Weasleys are your aunt and uncle?" Harry asked confused.

"No, but ever since I was little I've always called them 'Aunt Molly' and 'Uncle Arthur'. They've honestly been like a second family to me."

"In that case, I'm very happy for them. Extend my congratulations in your letter, please. I met Mrs. Weasley at the train station and she was very sweet."

"Sure." Cho was once again scanning the newspaper. Suddenly, her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, my God!" she said, pointing to an article lower down on the page. "It says Harry Potter's been spotted in Diagon Alley!"

Harry blanched. "What? Let me see that!" He grabbed the paper from her hands, staring at the article. Sure enough, there under bold letters proclaiming "_Harry Potter Seen!"_ was a picture of what he recognized as his right foot disappearing into a floo fire.

"A bit anxious, are we?" Cho teased, raising her eyebrows at Harry."

"Um." Harry answered, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he had.

"Wouldn't it be awesome to meet him? I mean, I've been hearing about him since I was little! I wonder what he's _like_!"

"Er." Harry replied eloquently.

"Don't you wonder? I've always wanted to meet Harry Potter, haven't you? OH! I forgot! You were raised by Muggles, right? Do you know who Harry Potter is?"

"Yes, of course I know who Harry Potter is!"

"Whoa, no need to be defensive. Anyway, they say Harry moved to New Zealand, Harry—hey! You two have the same name and you both live in New Zealand! Isn't that a coinci—" Cho trailed off, looking at Harry's down turned face.

Her jaw dropped. "Are you—can you--?"

Harry looked up, catching her eyes with a pleading stare. "Please, Cho. Don't say anything. Come on, I'll tell you everything."

Still in shock, Cho followed Harry out of the Great Hall and into the deserted Ravenclaw common room. He sat her down across from him, pinching the bridge of his nose and mumbling to himself before he spoke.

"They always said Ravenclaw was the smartest house." He said quietly.

"Is that all you can say? You've been _lying_ to everyone, lying to _me_ all this time!"

"Please. Let me explain." He paused, looking down. "It all started when Professor Lupin came to my house this summer with a letter from McGonagall. Basically, it said that I was magical and that my parents really hadn't died in a car crash; that Voldemort had killed them and I lived when I wasn't supposed to. Apparently, Dumbledore decided that it wasn't safe for me here and so nobody told me about anything. McGonagall says that he wished for me to come here after Voldemort was defeated, and so here I am. I—I'm using a different name because—because I don't think I can deal with everything. In Diagon Alley, all these people freaked out when they found out who I was and I really didn't want that. I'm just a regular kid, or at least, I thought I was. Can you understand that? I just wanted to blend in. I'm sorry for lying to you, Cho. I really am."

Cho stared at him. "I can't believe it. You—you're Harry Potter and you _don't_ want to be famous?"

"No! It's just so weird, you know? Thinking you were one person and then one day, poof! You're some legendary figure and everyone knows your name. It's hard enough trying to catch up on all this magic stuff without being, well, me."

"I think I understand where you're coming from." Cho said slowly. "But can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Do you know how you lived? I mean, when You-Know-Who tried to kill you?"

"Well, Dumbledore left me a letter that had a couple of his thoughts on it. If I tell you though, you have to _promise_ not to tell _anyone_. This is even a bigger secret than me being Harry Potter."

"I promise, Harry."

"Okay, I trust you—you know that. I mean it. McGonagall'll kill me if she finds out I told you. All right. First, Dumbledore thinks that a lot of it had to do with my blood. You see, my dad's family from the line of Gryffindor and my mum, somehow, had Merlin's blood. Dumbledore said that this combination together was pretty powerful. Plus the fact that both my parents died to protect me, I guess Voldemort didn't stand a chance." He paused. "There's also the possibility that Voldemort transferred some of his powers to me that night, something we're not sure that he meant to do, although I have a sneaking suspicion that he did."

"Why?" Cho asked, awestruck.

"I've been getting these—dreams, I guess you could call them. He's there, or, I guess, I'm there. I can see everything through his eyes—his time at Hogwarts, random murders, everything up to when he killed my parents. He has to be sending me these visions for a reason, I just don't know what it is yet. I've been working with Remus and Minerva on finding information on this sort of thing, and they're helping me as much as they can. Hermione Granger is also helping with research, although she doesn't know the specifics. I guess that's it."

"Wow. This is the most incredible thing I've ever heard in my life. Do all the professors know who you are? And where's your scar?"

Harry smiled weakly. "Yeah, they all know. I think Snape's trying to blow my cover, but he won't risk McGonagall if he does. My scar? I'm hiding it until, well, I guess until the inevitable happens and someone other than you finds out."

"I've never heard of a spell that can mask your appearance."

"It's some Auror thing—Remus told me about it."

"No way! That's supposed to be really difficult!"

"It's not too bad. Remus says it's just like channeling some of my magic into concealing it. I don't even realize I'm doing it."

Cho just gaped at him some more. 

"Er—Cho? I know this is hard, but you have to just treat me regularly, you can't let on that you know. Can you do that for me?"

"What? Oh, yeah, sure." Cho said absently, staring at Harry still.

"Thank you. I know you won't tell anyone."

"I swear it. Now come on, Potter." She laughed. "We have to get to classes."

Harry stood up and followed her out of the room. Although it was frightening that someone else knew his secret, it was strangely cathartic to let everything out. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he was revealed—his story was too ill-planned to hold up, but he intended to make the best of the time he had left as Harry Dursley while he still could.

~*~

****

Author's Note: I'm afraid I owe you all an incredible apology for taking so long. Life has been...hectic lately, and I've been writing as often as I could. As some of you may have heard, I was sick for a week and basically did nothing in that time. I would like to thank the SCUSA board members who wished me well while I was sick. :) 

I know this chapter isn't that great. I tried, though, and after a lot of thinking and a LOT of writer's block, this is what came out. I was proud of Snape's speech, though. Go me! :D

The Tarot part is very, very, very glossed over, simply because although I tried to teach myself Tarot over the Internet, it was just too involved and so I made it up. 

Thank you to NAPPA for encouraging me. To the Pumpkin Pie Archives for providing me with lots of wonderful H/H fluff to tide me over while I was feeling bad. And most of all to Rex, who has been my sounding board and is just plain awesome. :D

Also, thanks to the people who took the time to e-mail us privately. Your suggestions and comments were simply fabulous and, although I've said it before, it is just awesome to get that kind of feedback from people. I 3 you all! 

Many thanks to:

Icee

WildChild (Ron with bad teeth—hmmm...)

Lu (Thanks for your kind words. I honestly had to fight back tears when I read your lovely review. I can't even describe how that made me feel. Thank you SO much. 3)

Davis4Ever

Jade (I'm Lauren, NAPPA is the brains behind the operation, but I'm basically just expanding on them. I'm sorry if you don't like H/H. There will be other ships involved, too, so stick around.)

Zenemi (Thank you, dearie! ^_^)

Saerry Snape

Ron-Hater (Haha! You're the best!)

Rex (Rexie, m'dear, you are insane.)

Sketeya (Not a lot of Hermione in this chapter—wanted to focus more on Cho. Hope you liked it!)

Dauphin (I must clarify here: When I put "Heir of Gryffindor" I honestly didn't mean it like that. Simply, since he does possess the blood of the Gryffindor lineage, he is technically one of the Heirs of Gryffindor, although, in this story, I am not planning to focus on that. I'm sorry to cause any confusion and such.)

Akasha (Draco Malfoy—hmm.)

Derrick L.

Yoka

Magical Mischief Maker (Ron is an interesting subject. He's hard to describe and such. I don't know exactly what I'm going to do with him, but I have to say right here that although Ron doesn't fall into the 'most hated' category like Malfoy or Voldemort himself, I really don't like Ron's temper and jealousy. He gives me a bad vibe. Maybe it's just me.)

Linz

MarsIsBrightTonight (Are you a mind reader? That's honestly one of the scenarios I was considering.)

Phoenix

SeraphZero (That's one of the things I'm most worried about. I must work on that.)

Janelle

Ravenclawer (Thanks! 3)

Jaxx (You're another one who makes me cry! You're too sweet!)

Jade Griffindor

Old Lace (Don't worry—there will be a Harry/Ron confrontation—how could I resist?!)

Tom

Samantha (Oh, Hermione'll find out soon enough. It'll be great!)

Bon (Not a big fan of 'Harold' myself!)

Amy

Bookworm4Ever

Andros

Jeremiah 

LoneWolf (Thanks!)

A-Man

E.C.R. Potter (Must tell you that I am loving the "Return of the Lion")

Smileygirlo3

Baby Bluez (I love your story! Thanks for reviewing!)

Sirius Potter 

Apassov

Fearless Kitty

Ant3721

"...Sell me on a silver sun/ where I know that I'm free/ Show me that I'm everywhere/ and get me home for tea..."

My God, I totally dig The Beatles!

****

Disclaimer: This story was based on characters and plot lines developed by J.K. Rowling and in no way, shape, or form do they belong to us.

The title, "Sympathy for the Devil" and the lyrics written herein were written by the Rolling Stones and are very cool. Unfortunately, they're not ours, either.

Merci beaucoup!

--Lauren and NAPPA


	8. Chapter Eight: Tonight, Tonight

Tangled Fates 

A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

By Lauren and NAPPA

April 2, 2002

Chapter Eight: Tonight, Tonight

__

Time is never time at all  
You can never ever leave without leaving a piece of youth  
And our lives are forever changed  
We will never be the same  
The more you change the less you feel  
Believe, believe in me, believe  
That life can change, that you're not stuck in vain  
We're not the same, we're different tonight

-_Smashing Pumpkins_

Dusk was sweeping across the land, and with it, the crickets brought their daily salvo of sound, creating the nighttime sonata that marked an early fall twilight. It had been a beautiful day, and that beautiful day had merged into a beautiful night.

The air was crisp and clear and it was nothing short of invigorating to dance across the sky in the tango known as flight.

Harry Potter scanned the lush greenness of the Quidditch pitch, ever-searching for the elusive Golden Snitch. There were only two weeks left before the first match of the season, and Terry Boot had been running the Ravenclaw team ragged—scheduling practices at all hours, making sure that his team would be absolutely ready for it, Harry especially, this being his first year.

Privately, Harry didn't think that Boot had anything to worry about—even to his untrained eye, the Ravenclaw team looked fabulous. They moved more as a collective unit rather than seven separate entities, and even Harry himself was coming along quite well.

Suddenly—there it was—the Golden Snitch, hovering unobtrusively inches from the grass. Without a second thought, Harry pointed his broom downward and dived. He darted past Maggie Thomas, a fourth year Chaser, causing her to scream and drop the Quaffle as he buzzed by. He fell closer and closer to the earth as the other players stopped the action above to watch with bated breath. 

Inches from the ground, he pulled out into a graceful parabola, the Snitch fluttering harmlessly in his grasp.

Boot grinned widely as he soared towards the ground. "Smashing! Okay team, I'm calling it! Time to turn in!"

The rest of the Ravenclaws landed nearby, cheeks pink from the wind.

"That was a great catch, Harry." Maggie Thomas said, smiling sweetly.

"Amazing!" Katie Brodie, the other sixth year Chaser chimed.

Harry blushed slightly. "Thanks."

"Ooh, Harry! You're simply spiffing! Can I get your autograph?" Cho whispered softly into Harry's ear as she approached, laughing, from her place in the stands.

Harry swatted at her, "shut it, you!"

"Right then!" Boot interrupted. "Excellent practice, everyone! Now, go and get some rest—I want everyone in tip top shape for the match!"

The team dispersed then, leaving Harry and Cho alone on the pitch.

"It's really lovely out, isn't it?" Cho remarked, staring up at the nighttime sky.

Harry followed her gaze, nodding his assent.

Cho lay down on the grass and patted the space beside her. "Sit by me for a while." Harry lay down, his neck being tickled by the grass, and closed his eyes, breathing the sweet-smelling air in deeply. 

"Isn't it amazing how big the sky is?" Cho asked quietly. "How very many stars there are and how very little we are?"

"Overwhelming, to say the least."

"I heard a story once that the stars are really just the souls of the people we've lost. They shine down on us every night, never leaving, always constant." She paused, a solitary tear slipping down her cheek. "Do you think he's up there, Harry?"

Harry rolled on his side, propping himself up on an elbow to look at her. "Who? Cedric? I'm certain of it. He's probably watching you now and thinking how proud he is at how strong you are through everything."

Cho smiled, looking sideways at him. "No, he's probably laughing at how broken up I've been. I can just hear him, 'What're you doing, Cho? I'm gone! Move on, already!'" She laughed in spite of herself. "He was never really much for huge sentimental shows of emotion, but when it came down to it, he was just as mushy as the rest of us. Probably hated the memorial service we had for him—all his friends saying what a great guy he was and everything. Probably thinks we're all crazy for letting it get to us so much."

Harry shook his head, laughing. "Sounds like he was an interesting guy."

"You remind me a lot of him, Harry. Always could make me laugh or smile, always knew just what to say to cheer me up. And he was just so _good_; do you know what I mean? So noble, always knew what the right thing to do was, and then he just went out and did it. Never really thought of himself much, ever."

"You two were lucky to have each other."

Cho grinned. "He was so sweet to me! Do you know how he finally told me that he was interested in me? He wrapped all these boxes and sent them over to my house for my birthday. So I'm sitting at the kitchen table and like, five owls flap though the window struggling with this enormous package. Naturally, I'm dying to see what's in it, so I rip off the wrapping paper and there's another wrapped box—and another, and another and another! Finally, I get down to the last one and it's really thin and small. I open it and there's a picture of Cedric with 'what do you think? Can I be your present?' scrawled on it!" She smiled at the memory. "Obviously, I said yes."

Harry was laughing. "What a present."

And the two lay there, Harry listening and letting Cho remember Cedric for _himself_ , not for what happened to him, for the first time in a long while.

~*~

"Ooh, Harry! Look at this!" Hermione whispered, beckoning her over to his side of the table. "I think I found something good."

"Let me see—" Harry muttered, leaning over Hermione's shoulder. "The Power Transfer curse (_transferus permatus_) can be cast basically by anyone, although one wonders why someone would want to willingly transfer his or her power to another—blah, blah, blah—however, there is an obscure reference to a medieval wizard named Sartre who, when pushed to the brink of death by Auroris (the founder of what is known today as the Auror's Guild) attempted to transfer his life-force into Auroris's body. Auroris then went on a rampage, killing things left and right in the name of Sartre before he was finally exorcised by Godric Gryffindor himself. Auroris was deeply traumatized by this incident and then devoted the rest of his life to the eradication of the Dark Arts."

"The most frightening thing about this incident is the fact that Auroris, a notably powerful wizard, was simply unable to throw off Sartre's influence. 'I felt a cold mist invade my body, blanketing my senses and judgment. The villain's voice was inside my head, whispering nonstop about how I was powerless to defeat him.' Auroris remarked in his one public statement about the incident. 'All I could do was sit and watch as he controlled my body, forcing me to do unthinkable things to countless people.' At this point, Auroris was overcome by emotion and forced to leave, but his comments sparked many a debate about the effects and consequences of the Power Transfer curse if it were to fall into the hands of a dark wizard. As evidenced above, this spell can, in the end, cause more harm than good and could possibly be a huge detriment to the wizarding world as a whole. It is the conclusion of this committee to completely remove any trace of this curse from the records, especially considering the current political climate. Signed, Locklier, Gates, Moody, Fletcher, and Thomas, Ministry of Magic, 1970."

"This is it, Harry! The curse that McGonagall and Lupin are looking for! Why would they want such an obviously illegal spell, though?  


Harry looked thoughtful. "Maybe somebody used it on somebody else—" He broke off, his eyes widening in understanding. 

This was it—the reason for his dreams, the reason for his ambidexterity, the reason for _everything_. Voldemort had cast the Killing Curse at him that night, but when it rebounded back at him (Harry guessed this had something to do with his ancestry and his mother's sacrifice.), it had hit him hard. Weakened, Voldemort must have transferred what was left of his life-essence into his small body, using him as a vessel for his continued existence, thinking he would either come back and reclaim his power once he had been restored to a body, or simply coerce him into being his apprentice. Needless to say, Harry didn't much like either of these choices.

Hermione looked alarmed. "What is it, Harry?"

Harry snapped out of his reverie. "What? Oh, nothing. We better go to McGonagall with this though." Then he smiled, wrapping her in a hug. "Excellent work, Hermione!"

She shrieked with joy, throwing her arms around Harry's neck in return. "I can't believe we found it!"

"Hermione! Guess what?" a voice drifted over the stacks, followed shortly by a tall, red haired boy. He stopped at the sight of Harry and Hermione, who broke apart quickly.

"Ron! What are you doing here?!" Hermione cried, visibly surprised.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, a scowl etched on his features, sarcasm dripping from his voice, "I should have realized that you were busy with your _boyfriend_, Hermione. Oh, wait—that's me!"

"That's not fair, Ron." 

"Not fair! What are you doing here with _him_ anyway?"

"Calm down, Weasley," Harry butted in. "McGonagall assigned us this joint project and we'd just made a huge breakthrough. That's all."

"That still doesn't give you any right to be all over my girlfriend!"

"He was _not_ all over me, Ron! It was just a hug! Harry's my friend."

"Oh, _Harry_'s your friend, is he?" Ron yelled, drawing quite a few glances their way.

"Yes, Ron, he is my friend. Don't you trust me at all? I thought we had a better relationship than this!" Hermione had crossed her arms over her chest and was looking pretty miffed.

"You're making me out to be the bad guy here?" Ron yelled, disbelief apparent in his voice. "After what I just saw?"

"I am going to have to ask the three of you to leave if you cannot control your voices!" Madame Pinch had just stormed over to Harry, Hermione, and Ron, hands on her hips and looking as if she had never seen anything so shocking before in her life.

"Yeah, well, we were just leaving, weren't we, _Harry_?" Hermione said sweetly, glaring at Ron and grabbing Harry's arm, dragging him out of the library behind her.

Once safely outside the library, Hermione sank against the wall and slid to the floor. "I'm so sorry about that, Harry. Ron can be such an insensitive git sometimes." She whispered.

"It's okay. It was probably my fault, anyway. I shouldn't have hugged you like that."

"It was _not_ your fault, Harry! We weren't doing anything wrong and Ron is just a jealous prat!"

"Really nice, Hermione. Talking about me when I'm not even here to defend myself." Ron had burst out of the library just in time to hear Hermione's last comment.

Twin spots of fury blazed color onto Hermione's face. "You _are_ a jealous little prat, Ron! I'm so embarrassed at the scene you caused—I don't know how I can show my face in the library again!"

"Well, as long as lover boy here is with you, I'm sure you shouldn't have any problem!" Ron snapped back.

"Hey!" Harry said lamely, visibly affronted. "What's the matter with you, Weasley? We didn't do anything, okay?"

"I don't actually recall speaking to _you_, Dursley. Sod off." He glared fiercely at Harry, grabbing Hermione's wrist and pulling her off down the corridor. "Come on. We'll finish this in the common room."

"You're hurting me!" Hermione cried, wrenching her wrist free from Ron's grasp.

Ron turned quickly, staring at her. Hermione didn't break her gaze, all the while rubbing her bruised wrist.

"Hermione." He said through clenched teeth. "Stop being stupid!"

"She said she didn't want to go, Weasley." Harry said, coming to stand next to Hermione. "I suggest you leave."

"This doesn't have anything to do with you, okay? This is between my girlfriend and me, so for God's sake, sod off!" Ron punctuated this last statement with a hard shove into the wall.

The smooth marble wall shook as Harry hit it. Enraged, he flew at Ron, pinning him against the opposite wall with his forearm pressed fiercely against Ron's throat.

"Don't mess with me, Weasley." Harry said in a cold, low voice. Adrenaline was pumping furiously though his veins. He could barely see through the cloud of anger that was overcoming his senses. "She's my friend, and that's all. I don't appreciate seeing a wanker like you push her around, and I swear, if you ever hurt her again, I'll do more than just throw you against a wall, you got it?"

Ron nodded meekly, fear apparent in his eyes. He was looking at Harry strangely, but Harry didn't notice.

"You all right, Hermione?" Harry asked. She was standing as though lost in the center of the hallway, staring blankly at Harry.

"Yes, I'm fine." She whispered. "Thank you for sticking up for me, Harry."

"Don't let him push you around anymore, all right?"

"I won't. Ron and I are overdue for a long chat, anyway."

"Good luck, then. I'll go to McGonagall now and tell her what we found."

"Fine. See you later."

With a small smile, Harry strode off down the corridor, leaving an extremely confused couple behind him.

Ron looked at Hermione, his face pale and his eyes wide, all thoughts of the argument forgotten. "Did you see his eyes?" he asked.

She nodded.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I don't know, Ron, but I'm guessing there's more to Harry than we thought." She said quietly, looking off towards where Harry had disappeared.

~*~

Harry knocked smartly on Minerva's door, calling, "Are you there? It's Harry."

The thick oak door swung open and the Headmistress stood on the other side, smiling at Harry as he entered the room. He took his usual seat in the plushy chair across from Minerva's desk. 

"And to what do I owe the honor of this visit, Harry?" Minerva asked, seating herself behind her desk.

"Really good news—Hermione and I found a spell and I'm pretty sure it's what we've been looking for."

Minerva leaned forward, plainly interested in what Harry had to say. 

"It's called the Power Transfer curse, not really very imaginative, but it transfers one wizard's power to another. I've been thinking about it and this has to be what Voldemort did to me. Maybe he thought he could just come back and collect it once he was good and ready, I don't know. But part of him is in me, I'm sure of it. It's causing my dreams—even the Sorting Hat knew it was there!"

Minerva absently rubbed her forehead, contemplating the veritable Pandora's Box they could have just opened with this new source of information. "Is there any way to reverse it—I mean, any way to expel his, whatever it is inside you?"

"In this Ministry report that we found, it said that Godric Gryffindor exorcised the remains of the Dark Wizard Sartre from Auroris, so maybe we could try something like that."

"Gryffindor?" Minerva paused. "I don't know. If we try something like that and something goes wrong, we could perhaps unwittingly activate this _thing_ inside you and start something really bad. Exorcisms are pretty shady business—takes a lot of power to do it. I don't want to risk anything happening to you, Harry."

"Isn't there anything we can do, then?"

"I don't know. I must ask you and Miss Granger to keep searching and I myself am heading down to the Ministry building this very weekend to look in the Ministry files for anything we could use. We'll get to the bottom of this, don't worry."

Harry nodded. "What I don't understand is why this is all happening now? I mean, how come I didn't get any of these dreams while I was in New Zealand?"

"I can only guess that it must have had something to do with your re-admittance to the wizarding community. You must have triggered some sort of repressed memory by coming back here."

"Great."

Harry and Minerva sat in silence, both lost in their respective thoughts before Minerva broke the stillness, obviously quite anxious to change the topic of conversation. "Oh, I meant to tell you, Harry. You'll be sitting for your O.W.L.s this Saturday. I've been getting reports from your professors and you're really too far advanced for fifth year curriculum. Professor Snape, in particular, was most displeased at how you managed to ace his first test—the only student with perfect marks, I might add."

"The O.W.L.s—this Saturday?" Harry asked.

"Right. I don't think you'll have too much trouble with them. Just read over your notes and you should be fine."

"Are you sure? I mean, it's already Wednesday."

"Harry, when I tell you that you'll be fine, I mean it. I wouldn't let you take them if I didn't think you would pass them."

Harry shook his head, "all right."

"Splendid. Now, is there anything else?"

"Actually, I was just in a fight with Ron Weasley—"

"What?" Minerva interjected.

"But that's not the point. Anyway, I was really hacked off because Weasley was being a royal prat and he shoved me against the wall, so I pushed him back and I felt something, Minerva, like I was changing and I really think that I was going to transform into some sort of big, scary animal right there. I got out as fast as I could, and I don't think Weasley or Hermione noticed, but it freaked me out, Minerva. What if I lose control completely and 'poof!' I'm a lion hell-bent on eating someone who may or may not be one of my professors?!"

"I don't know what to tell you, Harry, except that basically, you cannot lose control of your emotions at all. You simply cannot let yourself be in any type of situation that could cause you to lose control. I know it's a pretty big thing to ask, but you have to do it. Otherwise, something really bad could happen, and no one wants to see you expelled for mauling someone."

Harry nodded. "I get it. I'll do my best."

"I know you will, Harry. I trust you."

"Thanks, Minerva. I better go now, though. Quidditch practice is in half an hour and I have to change. See you."

"Good bye, Harry."

As Harry left the office, Minerva found herself faced with a barrage of questions she had no answer to-- questions she didn't think she'd ever have an answer for. It was hard, being in a position of power and respect, with the needs of hundreds of children resting on your shoulders, knowing that although their blind faith was reassuring, in the long run, you were just as clueless as the rest of them.

~*~

An unfamiliar owl delivered Cho her copy of the _Daily Prophet_ the next morning at breakfast. Cho unfolded it eagerly, scanning the contents before letting out a shriek of laughter.

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously, trying to read over Cho's convulsing shoulders.

She handed the paper over to him, laughing. "Check it out! Ron Weasley's on the front page!"

Harry took the paper with a scowl. Weasley really wasn't one of his favorite people right now. But when he saw the article, he had to laugh. There, under a colorful headline reading, "The Minister's Family—A Day in the Life" was a full-color photograph of Ron struggling with a battered looking rat. The photographic-Ron was looking particularly surly, wrestling the rat into his hands, as Ginny Weasley's photographic-self laughed in the background.

"The new Minister's two youngest children, Ronald and Virginia with the family's pet rat, Scabbers." Harry read the caption aloud.

"Nice picture, Weasley!" someone from the Slytherin table yelled across the hall. The Slytherins (and a quite a few others) dissolved into giggles. Weasley's ears were bright red. Harry ducked his head as Hermione glared at the hall before leading Ron outside.

The laughter subsided as Ron left. 

"Harry, look! You're in the paper, too!" Cho whispered fiercely, gesturing to an article further down the page.

Sure enough, next to an article about Minister Weasley's trip to Azkaban later that day, was a commentary on whether or not Harry Potter was actually in England or not. Next to it was the now familiar picture of the back of Harry's foot.

"Vultures, the lot of them." Harry whispered back, folding up the paper and effectively finishing that conversation thread.

Just then, an owl bearing a Ministry insignia fluttered down to where Cho sat, dropping a letter into her lap.

"You're certainly popular today, aren't you, Cho?" Harry joked as she opened her letter. She unfolded the thick parchment and two tickets fell out onto her lap. She picked them up, looked at them for a second, and then, with a huge smile, read over her letter.

"Harry, guess what?" Cho crowed, looking back and forth between her letter and the tickets.

"What?"

"Aunt Molly gave me two tickets to the Inauguration Ball for Uncle Arthur! She says I can bring a friend and she's arranged so we can ride to the ball in Ron and Ginny's Ministry car!" She paused, looking at him intensely. "You'll come with me, won't you?"  


Shocked, Harry replied. "Me? You want me to go with you?"

Cho laughed. "Of course, stupid. You're pretty much my best friend around here and I kind of like having you around. You will go, won't you?"

"Of course!" He answered quickly. "But Cho—" he asked, his brow furrowed.

"What?"

"What am I supposed to wear?"  


Cho broke out in loud peals of laughter that echoed around the hall, drawing a few curious looks their way. Harry flushed bright red.

"Keep it down, Cho!" he spat.

Cho calmed down enough to talk. "Sorry, Harry—but really! 'What am I supposed to wear?' You sound like a thirteen-year-old girl! Dress robes, you nit!"

"I don't think I have any of them." Harry replied, scowling at her.

"Okay, then. We'll have to nip down to Hogsmeade and go pick some up at Gladrags. Come to think of it, I could use some new robes as well. We'll go Saturday."

"Can't. I have to take my O.W.L.s, of all things."

"What? You're taking your O.W.L.s _now_?"

"Yeah. I'm to move up to sixth year, and I have to pass my O.W.L.s. McGonagall doesn't think that they'll be too difficult for me."

"Well. All right. Good luck then, I guess. Do you want to go after your O.W.L.s? The ball is next Saturday, so we don't really have that much time."

"The day of the Quidditch match?"

"Yeah, but it'll be over hours before the ball. Ooh. Riding in the car with Ron isn't going to be too pleasant, especially after we decimate Gryffindor in the Quidditch match."

Harry laughed. "I can't wait."

~*~

The rest of the week was remarkably uneventful, if you didn't count the way that Ginny Weasley almost jumped out of her skin every time Harry looked at her, or the way that Hermione barely acknowledged his presence when they passed in the hall.

Harry wasn't quite sure why Hermione and Ginny were acting so strangely, but he would be willing to bet that it had something to do with Ron Weasley.

Ever since The Incident, as Harry had taken to calling it in his mind, Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors had been noticeably cool to him. Harry could only guess that Ron was still hacked off that Harry had roughed him up a bit.

Terry Boot had noticed this as well, and had been very concerned that perhaps the Gryffindors had found out about Harry's new position on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Embarrassingly enough, Boot had been going out of his way to insure that Harry was always surrounded by a gaggle of Ravenclaws at all times. He claimed that this was for his "protection" but good reason or no, it was beginning to get quite irritating, especially when, attempting to study for his fast-approaching O.W.L.s, he had to break through the steadfast ranks of the fifth year girls in order to reach the library.

Thankfully, Saturday arrived and Harry reported to the History of Magic classroom bright and early. He was met there by McGonagall and the ghost of Professor Binns, who wordlessly handed him a thick sheaf of parchment as he walked through the door.

Minerva was friendlier. "Good luck, Harry." She said with a smile as he took his seat.

The next two hours of Harry's life were spent recalling the obscure names of Goblin rebellion leaders and various peace treaties, scrawling them haphazardly on the parchment, and hoping for the best. He was quite happy with his performance though, guessing that he really only messed up once or twice. 

The next test was Potions, for which Harry was forced to make the long trek to the dungeons. The exam itself wasn't really that difficult, however, for Gudgeon only asked him to brew a Glorifying Draught and what really amounted to a magical crop fertilizer. Gudgeon smiled and winked him before he left; leaving Harry feeling very reassured that he had just passed his second exam.

Afterward was Charms, where tiny Professor Flitwick gave him a long written exam on charm theory and then a very exhausting round of practical exams in which Harry was made to perform a series of charms in rapid succession on an extremely bedraggled looking porcupine. 

Transfiguration with Professor Lupin was quite entertaining because Lupin's exam consisted solving a variety of logic puzzles that all added up to something Harry had to transfigure in order to pass. Lupin grinned as he finished, saying, "You did as good as your father would have, I can give you no better compliment."

Divination and Herbology was a breeze, along with Care of Magical Creatures. However, the day was growing long, and by the time Harry was to go for his last exam, he was feeling very drained, indeed.

Imagine his glee when he swung open the door and there, wearing look of utmost revulsion, was Professor Snape.

"Here, Potter." Snape said, handing him an extremely thick test booklet, before widening his eyes, exclaiming, with an unnecessary amount of sarcasm, "whoops! I slipped!"

Harry glared at Snape as he took his seat.

The test was brutal: page after page of in-depth essay questions about arcane magical knowledge, all the while having Snape hovering about, commenting on everything Harry wrote.

Three hours later, Harry finally threw down his quill with relish, shoved his test at Snape, and marched out.

He met Cho, who was waiting for him on the couch in the common room. She smiled and stood as he entered the room, and walked over to where he stood.

"Hey! You look exhausted! Let's go." Cho said, as she looked him over.

Harry smiled weakly. "Let me just nip up and grab my money, okay?"

"Sure."

Harry dashed up the staircase and into his dorm. Rifling though his trunk, he quickly found the dragonhide bag that held his money and opened it up, smiling at the load of money that it held.

Throwing on a clean set of robes, Harry grabbed his cloak and moneybag and hurtled back down the stairs to where Cho was waiting. All right, let's go."

Cho and Harry exited the common room, Harry leading the way towards the great hall when suddenly Cho pulled him back.

Smiling widely, she motioned him to follow her down the Charms corridor. "We can't just walk out the front door, Harry. We're not allowed. Follow me, okay?" she whispered.

Harry nodded, following close behind her. She stopped in front of a statue of a humpbacked witch. Looking furtively around her, she drew her wand and tapped the witch's hump, whispering "_dissendium_!"

To Harry's amazement, the hump opened up, revealing a long, underground pathway. Cho climbed in and Harry followed. They both lit their wands as the passageway closed, leaving them in darkness.

"How did you know about that, Cho?" Harry asked incredulously as they walked along the twisting corridor.

"Fred and George showed it to me last year." She said. "They had this fab map that showed them all the ways out of Hogwarts, but Professor Lupin confiscated it last year. Shame really."

"Lupin took it away? Doesn't really seem like him. Where does this take us, anyway?"

"It leads to this trapdoor underneath the floor in Honeydukes' basement. We can get to Gladrags from there."

The rest of the trip was basically silent as they made their way into Hogsmeade. Getting out of Honeydukes was kind of sticky, but they (thankfully) managed it quite nicely. Cho hurried them through the streets, directing them to Gladrags.

A little bell rang as they pushed open the door, and a plump little witch bustled out to greet them.

"Hello, welcome to Gladrags. My name is Glenda. What can I do for you this fine evening?" 

"Hi! We both need some new dress robes." Cho said.

"For what occasion, may I ask?"

"We're going to the Minister's Inauguration Ball."

"Oh!" Glenda's face brightened. "Right this way then."

Harry was seated and told to wait while Cho was fitted. A few minutes later, Cho came out wearing stunning silver-gray robes that clung in all the right places. She looked spectacular.

"What do you think?" Cho asked, spinning around.

"You look beautiful, Cho." Harry said, gaping at her.

"Thank you, Harry." Cho blushed. "I guess I'll take these then." She said, looking quite pleased.

"You do look lovely, young lady. Great choice." Glenda said, smiling at Cho. "Just go and get changed and I'll wrap them up for you after we fit this young man here. If you'll follow me?" she said, motioning to Harry.

Harry got up, following Glenda into the surprisingly luxurious back room. "Hop up there, dear, and we'll measure you up, okay?"

Harry obediently stood on the hassock, watching with ill-disguised amusement as a shiny tape measure flitted about his person, calling out measurements in a squeaky voice.

The tape measure clattered to the floor and Glenda bustled over. "That's you done, love. I've got your size, we just need colors and such." She looked at Harry expectantly.

"Er—" Harry said eloquently.

Glenda looked him, over, sizing him up. "May I make a recommendation, Mr.--?"

"Dursley," Harry supplied. "And of course."

"Certainly, Mr. Dursley. May I recommend these?" She pulled out a long set of bottle green robes. "They'll bring out your eyes, dear."

"Oh, um, I suppose so." Harry said, never really one for fashion sense. "Can I try them on?"

"Of course, dear. Right through here." She led Harry to a dressing room where he quickly threw the robes on.

"Cho?" he called, stepping out from his little cubicle. "Do these look all right?"

Cho walked into the room, followed shortly followed by Glenda. Both stopped at the sight of Harry. "You better keep him close, love." Glenda whispered to Cho.

Cho blushed. "You should definitely get those, Harry." She said lightly.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "They're okay, then?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay, then." Harry redressed quickly, handing his new robes over to Glenda for her to ring up. Clutching their new parcels, Cho and Harry went out into the night and quickly returned to Hogwarts via the secret passage.

~*~

By Friday evening, it seemed as though a small flock of butterflies had taken up permanent residence inside Harry's stomach. The first match of the season was only a very few short hours away, and needless to say, Harry was quite nervous.

He sat around the fire in the common room, receiving well wishes from all corners of the room. Will sat beside him, giving him last minute "tips" ("Basically, Harry, you had just better catch the Snitch, because I've got ten Galleons riding on you!") that he supposed were meant to cheer him up, but were only serving to increase his feeling of impending doom.

It was a great relief then when at half-past ten Boot stood and yelled, "Team! Bed!"

Harry stood, following his teammates up the staircases to their respective dormitories. "Sleep well, Harry!" Cho called with a smile. Harry nodded weakly in reply.

That night, while thankfully not visited by any intensely creepy dreams involving one Lord Voldemort, Harry slept fitfully. He was instead having dreams about the following day's Quidditch match. It was terrible—Ravenclaw was playing superbly, but as Ron Weasley jubilantly sped across the pitch and grabbed it from right underneath Harry's nose, the entire crowd turned on him. "_You're nobody, Harry Potter! You'll never be good enough!"_

Harry sat up with a start, breathing heavily. "_Jesus, Potter!"_ he thought angrily._ "You've been in this situation, how many times? It's just another game! You'll do fine."_

Reassuring himself, he drifted off to sleep, hopefully, for the last time that night.

~*~

The morning dawned clear and bright and Harry was awoken by a gentle sunbeam streaming through his window and illuminating his face. Steeling himself for the day, he swung out of bed, threw on yesterday's robes over top a pair of gray St. Gabriel's Basketball sweatpants and a white t-shirt from the state championships and headed down to breakfast.

Cho was already seated, saving him a place beside her. "Morning, Harry!" she said, swallowing a swig of orange juice. "You ready for today?"

Harry nodded. "I'm a little nervous, but it'll pass."

"You've got nothing to be nervous about!" Cho smiled. "I've seen you fly. You'll be great—trust me."

Harry grinned back, his confidence building. "Thanks, Cho." With that, he grabbed a stack of pancakes and dug in, properly hungry for the first time in days.

As one, and as if they meant to do it all along, the Ravenclaw team stood and exited the hall among the morning bustle. They returned to the common room, collected their gear, and trooped outside to the locker rooms.

Harry dressed quietly, throwing his blue team robes over a pair of gray St. Gabriel's Basketball sweatpants and a white district championships t-shirt. The team sat in silence, each member preparing for the impending match in their own way. Harry watched anxiously as Boot paced nervously across the locker room floor, his feet tromping out a heavy rhythm that, believe it or not, helped to pass the time.

Boot stopped his manic pacing as the sounds of the crowd grew louder and louder above them. Suddenly, a whistle blast pierced the overwhelming silence. Resolutely, the team stood. It was time.

Boot led his squad to the doors that opened up onto the field. "This is it. We're ready, I know it—now let's kick some Gryffindor arse!"

Boot's suggestion was met with mighty roars of approval. The sound echoed off the walls, filling the room with their exuberance.

Through the wall of noise, a familiar magnified voice could be heard—"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to Hogwarts' first match of the season, pitting our very own Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor!"

The crowd roared.

"Now—introducing the Gryffindors! Leading the way, captain and seeker, Ron Weasley! Followed by the intrepid chasers—Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Colin Creevey! The unbeatable beaters—Graham Pritchard and Natalie McDonald! Finally, the newest member of the team, the keeper, Ginny Weasley!"

As Harry peered out of the doorway, he saw a parade of scarlet blurs whipping around the pitch. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in order to calm his nerves. 

"And now—the team I know I've been waiting for—the defending champions—Ravenclaw!"

The crowd's approval rose in an ear-splitting crescendo. 

"Leading his team today is the captain and chaser, Terry Boot!" Boot smiled at his team, whispered, "good luck!" and zoomed out.

Harry and the rest of the team watched warily as Boot took a lap around the field, before flying over to the commentator—_Cho!_ Harry noted with surprise—and handed her a slip of parchment.

"I have just been given the Ravenclaw lineup, so without further adieu, I present to you, Boot's fellow Chasers, Maggie Thomas and Katie Brodie!" Maggie and Katie smiled at Harry and burst out onto the field to loud cheers. "Followed by the Beaters, Steve Pratt and Charlie Jackson" Steve and Charlie hit their Beaters clubs together and flew out to face the cheering crowd. Only Harry and Anna Valero, the Keeper were left in the locker room.

"Good luck, Anna." Harry said, smiling at her.

Anna blushed. "Thanks, Harry. You too!"

Cho's voice pierced the silence again. "…and now the Keeper, Anna Valero!" Anna winked and flew out to join the rest of the team.

Harry stood alone, nervously running his hands through his hair. "Calm down, Potter." He muttered.

"And last, but not least," Cho's voice continued, "playing in his very first Quidditch game ever, the new Ravenclaw Seeker—Harry Dursley!"

Harry mounted his broom and kicked off, soaring out over the stands. As soon as he took flight, Harry was amazed to find, all his worries left him.

Grinning, Harry flew over to his team and took his place for the beginning of the match. Harry noticed Ron Weasley, hovering opposite from him, wasn't looking too pleased to see him.

"And here comes Madame Hooch, ready to begin the first match of the season!" Cho's voice cried.

Madame Hooch placed a wooden trunk on the ground and opened it up, freeing the Golden Snitch and the Bludgers. The Snitch flitted in front of Harry's face for a moment before zooming away. Hooch picked up the Quaffle, standing between the two captains. 

"I want a clean game from both teams, all right? Captains, shake hands." Hooch commanded.

Boot and Weasley both extended a hand, grasping the others for the briefest of seconds.

Hooch blew once on her whistle and threw the Quaffle high in the air. Katie raced across, grabbing the Quaffle and flying swiftly towards the Gryffindor goalposts.

"And Chaser Katie Brodie of Ravenclaw takes the Quaffle—nice Bludger work by Beater Jackson of Ravenclaw to clear Katie's way. Brodie passes to Boot, back to Brodie—she shoots, she scores! 10-zip Ravenclaw!"

Katie punched the air as she flew through the cheers of the Ravenclaw supporters. Harry cheered silently from his place high above the pitch. He noticed Weasley floating behind him, watching him with an indiscernible look on his face.

"Well, hello to you, too, Weasley." Harry called.

Weasley scowled. "Prepare to be humiliated, Dursley." He growled.

Harry laughed. "I wouldn't be too cocky if I were you, Weasley."

Weasley rolled his eyes. 

"Besides, we're up thirty-nothing." Harry remarked, gesturing towards the Gryffindor goals where Boot was firing the Quaffle through the left goal post, just out of Ginny Weasley's reach.

Ron swore, swooping down towards his sister, screaming something unintelligible. 

Harry grinned as he returned to searching for the Snitch.

"And the pass goes to Dean Thomas, back now to Finnigan, over to Creevey! He shoots—and I don't believe it! An _amazing_ save by Ravenclaw Keeper Valero!" 

Anna smiled, throwing the Quaffle over to Maggie, who bolted up field. 

Boot flew by Harry, calling "why don't you try a feint or something, Dursley!" before hurrying away to help Maggie and Katie.

Enthused with the idea, Harry flew over to Weasley, making sure he got his attention before pointing his broom handle straight down to random spot on the grass.

"And Dursley goes into a spectacular dive, Weasley following close behind! Obviously, the Snitch must be nearby! They're getting awfully close to the ground—what's Dursley doing? He's pulling out! It's a feint! Weasley trying frantically to stop and –ooh! That's gotta hurt!"

The crowd winced as Ron smashed into the ground. Madame Pomfrey, the school nurse, ran out onto the field to examine Weasley as he lay in a heap on the grass.

Harry felt a momentary pang of guilt as he watched Weasley lie beneath him. But this was Quidditch—and that was how you played the game. Shaking his head, he flew up again, using the time Weasley was on the ground to search for the Snitch. 

Boot flew over, grinning. "Great feint, Harry! Viktor Krum couldn't have done it better!"

Harry smiled in return, eyes still scanning the pitch.

"And after a terrific Wronski Feint by the Ravenclaw Seeker, Gryffindor Seeker, Ron Weasley appears to be quite incapacitated." Cho's voice kept up the commentary. "Madame Pomfrey out to look and yes, Weasley's getting up! A round of applause for Ron Weasley!"

Madame Hooch blew her whistle and play resumed. 

Harry flew by Weasley, who was looking rather dazed still. 

Gryffindor scored a couple times, evening the score at forty-all. The game was growing long, with still no sign of the Snitch.

The Ravenclaw chasers began to turn it on, scoring three times in rapid succession. The Ravenclaws in the stands were going crazy, cheering on their team.

"Boot passes to Brodie, back to Boot, to Maggie Thomas, over to Brodie! Watch that Bludger, Mags! Ginny Weasley flying out to intercept—a quick pass to Boot—he scores! Eighty-Forty, Ravenclaw!"

Harry flipped on his broom, growing quite restless. Suddenly—there it was! Without thinking, Harry inverted his broom and flew straight down. Weasley turned with a start—at first, obviously a little wary about following, but as he spotted the Snitch hovering inches from the ground, he dove quickly and gave chase.

All other action on the field ceased as Harry and Ron sped towards the tiny golden ball, Harry with a commanding lead.

As if it could sense the approaching Seekers, the Snitch turned direction and sped away from them towards the Gryffindor stands.

Instinctively, Harry flipped upside-down on his broom, twisting to avoid a Bludger shot at him by one of the Gryffindor Beaters. He threw his body sideways, gaining more momentum as he led the chase to the Snitch.

He could tell Weasley was behind him, although everything else was a blur—Cho's voice fading in the wind as it whistled in his face. Somehow, as if he meant to do it all along, Harry pulled the broom sideways at an alarming speed—right into the path of the Snitch as it changed directions. He reached out a hand, a feeling on unmatchable exuberance as his fingers closed around the tiny object, its fluffy wings beating helplessly against the palm of his hand.

The sound of the crowd mixed in with Cho's delightful crowing rapidly became clearer as he descended towards the ground, still grasping the Snitch.

"I don't believe it! What an amazing catch by the Ravenclaw Seeker, Harry Dursley! Ravenclaw wins! Ravenclaw wins!"

The rest of the team swooped on Harry in a big dog-pile of joy, congratulating each other and screeching loudly.

Buried beneath a pile of celebrating Ravenclaws, Harry cheered as loud as the rest of them, feeling nothing but pure happiness.

~*~

The rest of the day was a complete blur to Harry as he and Cho lounged about the common room in the midst of a humongous party celebrating the Ravenclaw victory, random people coming up to him to shake his hand and congratulate him on his spectacular catch.

At ten to six, Cho excused herself, disappearing upstairs to prepare for that night's ball. Harry followed soon afterward, showering quickly and addressing his hair, which had always been something of an unruly mess.

Fortunately, Harry was able to direct some semblance of order tonight and was quite pleased with the result. He dressed quickly in a fitted pair of gray brushed-wool trousers and a white button-down oxford shirt. He topped that with his new robes and slipped on a pair of shoes. Grabbing his cloak and taking one last look in the mirror, Harry headed downstairs to the packed common room, creating quite a stir as he entered. 

Cho was already waiting for him, wearing her new silver robes that seemed to bring out a sparkling quality in her coal-black eyes. Her silky jet-black hair was done up in an elegant twist, a few loose strands framing her face. All in all, she looked simply beautiful.

Harry grinned widely as she walked over to greet him. "Wow," he breathed. "You look amazing."

Cho blushed, a pretty flush that illuminated her high cheekbones. "Thank you, Harry. You look pretty good yourself."

"Ta." Harry replied, still smiling stupidly.

"You're beginning to sound like a regular Englishman, you are." Cho remarked, smirking, as he took her arm. "Let's go, then."

Harry smirked as the ranks of younger students parted to let them through. "This is ridiculous. You'd think we were the bloody Royal Family the way they're acting." He whispered.

"Bugger off, I like it." Cho whispered back, her smile extending to her ears.

He sniggered as they exited the common room. "Come on, then. The car's been waiting for five minutes already."

Harry and Cho slipped through the hallways, laughing at nothing in particular.

A long black car adorned with Ministry flags was waiting for them in front of the school. 

"Nice." Harry commented, opening the door for Cho. "After you, my good lady."

Cho smiled sweetly at him, lowering herself into the car. Harry followed shortly, looking around at the spacious and luxurious interior of the Ministry Car.

Hermione and Ron were seated across from Cho and Harry. On Harry's left, along the side of the car sat Ginny and Neville Longbottom, something Harry discerned Ron Weasley wasn't particularly happy about, judging by the death glares he was sending Neville's way every three seconds.

"Hello, everybody." Cho said lightly as they settled themselves.

"All right, Cho? I didn't know you were coming!" Ginny exclaimed, grinning hugely at her.

"Your mother invited me and a guest, so here we are."

Ron scoffed. Hermione punched him in the arm, mouthing "be nice!" and smiled at Cho and Harry.

"Hello, Cho, Harry." She said formally.

"Hi, Hermione." Harry replied. 

Ron grumbled.

The rest of the ride was fairly uncomfortable, with Ron pointedly not speaking to Harry, Ginny, or Neville. It was a relief when the car screeched to a halt in front of the grand marquee of the Ritz-Merlin Hotel, the swankiest wizarding hotel in all of Great Britain.

Harry helped Cho out of the car and they followed the Weasleys and their respective dates into the hotel.

The lobby of the hotel was richly festooned with gilded chandeliers, elegant tapestries, and a marble inlaid floor that was so shiny you could see your own reflection in it when you looked down.

The six teenagers trooped into the large elevator ("Muggle technology!" Ron scoffed as they entered) and rode in silence to the top floor ballroom. Harry looked nervously around at his companions. Hermione looked truly beautiful that night, dressed in elegant lavender robes that seemed specially made for her. Her cinnamon hair was tamed into long ringlets that spilled over her shoulders from a golden circlet that ringed the crown of her head. Ginny looked nice as well, dressed in simple robes of spring green that looked lovely against her alabaster skin.

Ron really didn't paint the portrait of elegance that night, a scowl permanently etched on his features, a scowl that darkened more than ever as he looked upon Harry and Neville especially. 

Neville just basically looked nervous, but with the way Ron was looking at him, Harry couldn't exactly blame him.

As they stepped off the elevator and entered the ballroom, a plump woman in navy blue robes rushed over, wrapping Ginny in a hug and kissing Ron softly on the cheek. "I'm so glad you're all here now!" she cried, hugging her children.

"Yeah, we're glad to see you too, Mum." Ron said, pushing himself away from his mother. "Although we don't go about trying to asphyxiate you the second you step though the door."

Mrs. Weasley sniffed as she dismissed her son's sarcasm with a wave of her hand. "Your brothers are already here. They've been looking for you."

"Oh, Charlie's here?" Ron asked, his face brightening. "I need to ask him something about Quidditch." With this statement, he scowled furiously in Harry's direction.

"Stop being such a sore loser, Ron!' Hermione exclaimed, exasperated. "It's all I've been hearing about all day!" she explained to Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley looked fondly at her son's retreating back. "He's still upset about losing then?" she asked Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Naturally."

Mrs. Weasley frowned, before wrapping Hermione in a hug. "I missed you, Hermione. You're such a sweet girl to put up with his moods."

Hermione smiled at the friendly woman. "I missed you, too, Mrs. Weasley. I better go find Ron, though."

They pulled apart and Hermione left in search of her boyfriend. Mrs. Weasley turned to Cho. "Why Cho Chang, you look so grown up, dear!"

Cho broke into a huge grin as her "Aunt Molly" wrapped her in a hug. "Thanks, Aunt Molly. And thanks for inviting us, too." She gestured to Harry. "This is my friend Harry Dursley."

Harry smiled awkwardly at Mrs. Weasley. "Hello." 

"Oh, I remember you, dear! It's wonderful to see you again! How are you liking Hogwarts so far?"

"I like it a lot. Everyone's really nice."

"I'll always remember Hogwarts fondly." Mrs. Weasley said with a smile. "Which house did you end up in, dear?"

"I'm in Ravenclaw."

Mrs. Weasley looked hard at him for a second. "You're the Seeker, aren't you?" she said slowly.

Harry widened his eyes. "Um, yes." He answered nervously, all the while wishing furiously that she wouldn't set the Aurors on him for Wronski Feinting her youngest son.

"You fly marvelously, Harry. Really. That was the best Wronski Feint I've ever seen, and with six sons, I've been dragged to my share of Quidditch matches!"

Harry laughed. "You and the Minister were there?"

"Of course! Couldn't miss our Ginny's first match. Wish it could have ended better for Gryffindor, of course, but you can't have everything. Come to think of it, I believe Arthur wanted to meet you. Stay here, all right?"

Harry nodded meekly. The Minister of Magic wanted to meet _him_? Harry looked sideways at Cho. "Is this a good thing?" he asked quietly.

"I think so." Cho whispered back.

Mrs. Weasley returned moments later, a tall man with the red hair of his children in tow.

"Arthur, this is the Ravenclaw Seeker, Harry Dursley." She introduced.

Arthur's eyes widened. "Harry, is it?" he asked, shaking Harry's hand. "I wanted to tell you how impressed I was by your flying skills, my boy. Tell me, was that really your first match?"

"Er—yes, it was. I actually just came to Hogwarts this year and never really knew about magic or Quidditch before."

"Really? You lived with Muggles, then? Must be fascinating. I've always had a bit of a soft spot for the Muggles myself." He chuckled. Harry instinctively liked Mr. Weasley. He had an easy-going personality and warmth just seemed to radiate from him. "But enough of that. I want you to meet someone, Harry."

He led Harry away then, Harry looking apologetically back at Cho, who simply waved him on, laughing. She fell into a conversation with Ginny then, and Harry felt better about leaving her then.

Mr. Weasley led Harry over to a slightly stocky man who had a jovial, boyish face. "Ludo?" Mr. Weasley questioned, tapping the man on the shoulder. 

The man spun around, a huge grin lighting up his features. "Arthur! Good to see you mate! How've you been?"

"Couldn't be better, Ludo, but I want to introduce you to someone. Ludo Bagman, meet Harry Dursley. Ludo's the coach for the Britain Quidditch Team. Ludo, this boy is the best damn Seeker I've ever seen in my life! Pulled off this Wronski Feint, better than Krum, I swear it—and it was the lad's first match!"

Ludo Bagman's eyes lit up. "This boy could contend with the likes of Krum? God knows we need a better side, especially with all of Britain forming one team for the next World Cup!"

"Don't I know it!" Arthur said darkly. "I seriously think you should give him a try out, see what he can do. We need a good Seeker."

Bagman was looking at him appraisingly. "He looks so familiar. Have I met you before?" he asked.

"No, I don't think so." Harry replied.

"No matter. If you're as good as Arthur here says, then you must really be something to see. You're up at the school, aren't you?"

"Hogwarts? Yes, I am."

"Great! Then I'll be in touch with you soon, see if we can schedule a try out for you. Who knows? You could very well be Britain's next Seeker!"

With that, he walked away, leaving a very flabbergasted Harry behind.

Arthur slapped Harry on the back. "Good luck, Harry! Now, if you don't mind, I best be getting back to my wife." He winked at Harry and walked away.

Cho made her way over to where Harry stood. "What's going on?" she questioned, taking in Harry's slack-jawed expression.

"They just offered me a tryout for the National team." Harry said, still disbelieving.

Cho's eyes widened. "Are you kidding me?" she screeched. "You're so lucky."

"Pinch me." He ordered.

"What?" Cho asked, bewildered.

"So I know I'm not dreaming."

Cho laughed. "Come on, you. We better get seated before you pass out or something."

Harry rolled his eyes, but allowed Cho to lead him to a small table set for four. They sat and talked for a while before dinner was served.

The food was excellent, served by a small army of house elves dressed in gold and purple tea towels.

After dinner, the tables disappeared, leaving a large open space in the middle of the floor for dancing. The hotel band trouped in, setting up their instruments on an elevated platform. As the first sweet strains of music tumbled out of the piano, the floor filled up with twirling couples, among them, Harry and Cho.

The night passed swiftly, with everyone swapping partners and having a most wonderful time. The night was waning, and with the ingestion of large quantities of butterbeer and mulled mead, the revelers got more and more uninhibited. 

Cho stopped dancing for a minute, fanning herself. "I think I'll sit this one out, Harry." She said, wandering over to a table. Harry followed her over, sitting down, when somebody tapped him on the shoulder.

Harry spun around, surprised to find himself face to face with Hermione. "Do you want to dance, Harry?" she asked meekly. Harry looked over to Cho who said, "Go ahead. I need to rest, anyway."

Harry nodded his assent and stood up, taking Hermione's arm and walking to the center of the floor.

The music began, playing a haunting melody that filled the room. Harry placed his arms around Hermione's waist and Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck in turn. 

As they revolved slowly on the spot, Harry felt an inexplicable warmth filling his body, an odd sense of euphoria that overtook his senses. Something about holding Hermione felt so—right. It was indescribable. He pulled her closer to him, and she responded, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck.

Harry turned his face to look at her. They locked eyes and it was physically impossible to look away.

"Harry—" she whispered.

Their faces were mere inches apart. 

Harry didn't know what was happening or why, but all he knew was that he couldn't stop. As if drawn by a magnet, they both leaned in, closer and closer—

Suddenly, a loud bang broke the stillness. Harry and Hermione flew apart, both their faces flushed crimson.

A tiny woman was sprinting through the crowd, trembling like a leaf. "Minister!" she yelled. "There's been an incident!"

Arthur Weasley stepped out of the crowd, his face unusually grave and set in resolute lines. "What is it, Phyllis?" he asked, as though he didn't really want to hear the answer. 

"Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban!"

~*~

****

Author's Note: There! It's finally done—this took me so long to write. J Luckily, I love all my readers and would not rest until it was finished! I would like to say I am terribly sorry for how long this took to put out, but my computer got virused and _everything_ was lost. It was really bad and it took a week or so before the computer was operational again. Thankfully, it's working now, and I am able to post this.

I hope everyone enjoyed the almost H/H scene, along with the Quidditch Match, which was really hard to write. Please leave me a review to tell me what you thought. 

Hopefully, the next chapter will be out soon. I'll get right on it!

I'd like to thank all my reviewers, NAPPA, and my lovely brother, Colin (http://www.imprisoned.org) who fixed the computer and let me online to write this. 

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing all twenty-five pages of it!

--Lauren and NAPPA

****

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, her publishers, and whatnot. 

The song "Tonight, Tonight" is by the Smashing Pumpkins, and neither the song nor the lyrics included herein are mine either.


	9. Message from Nappa

Message from Nappa  
  
Hello. I'm Nappa. First of all I would like to apologise to everyone who has been waiting for an update.   
  
Second - Lauren (the real writer) has stopped coming online. I tlaked to her brother on AOL, but he was unable to give a reason as to why she has not. It seems that Lauren is no longer interested in FanFiction - Not in Tangled Fates anymore. I've also tried emailing her - but either emails are blocked to her from me - or she has chosen to not to respond or she does not have the password to her account - too many reasons I could think of.  
  
Thirdly - Though I've contemplated taking up the story myself or delegating to someone else - I've come to the decision not to. Lauren writes very well - too well for anyone that I know to carry on. It'd pale in comparision to what would have the result of her writing.  
  
Lastly - I'd like to wish Lauren well in what ever she has decided to do. Should this message prove to be not needed "ie" the story will continue - I'll advertise it a lot. you'll know.  
  
-------------- NAPPA 


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